Blood and Flame and Fire Lilies
by Minstrel of Fire
Summary: When young Ursa returns to the capital city with her family, she finds herself deeply entangled in political intrigue...as are Prince Iroh and Prince Ozai. Ch. 16 up! The spirit world is strange and beautiful and sometimes...steamy.
1. Spectacle

Disclaimer: I do not whatsoever in any way, shape, or form, own Avatar or its characters. I just incessantly ship them (well, two of them)...

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A/N: Yay, another fic (which I didn't get around to heralding on my main page...yet). Warning: Major Urzai here (not surprising, knowing me). ;) Not yet, but this is a multi-chapter fic. Also, I've tried to keep everyone in character, but I haven't made Ozai as evil/jerkish as he's portrayed a lot of times. (Oh, he'll get jerkish all right...but that's later.) Speaking of Ozai's evilness, I want assure readers of With Hope Rekindled (my immediately-post-banishment Zuko fic) that I haven't forgotten that fanfic, and I intend to finish it at some point. I'm just still not sure when. Thanks to everyone who has read and enjoyed it, though (and especially reviewed).

Now, back to this fanfic. Have I scared you away yet? Good! (I mean, it's good that you're not scared away. ;) lol) Now enjoy, and I'd love to hear what you think! (Cookies for anyone who can guess who Ursa's two friends are supposed to be... You can tell me in your review... -hint hint- lol)

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"Come on, Ursa!" Ting Yan urged, all but dragging her through the broad avenues of the Fire Nation capitol city.

"What is it?" panted Ursa, struggling to keep up.

"Knowing Ting Yan, it's probably something not worth our time," Dai remarked, her prim reserve unruffled by the brisk pace that keeping up with their friend required. As they turned a corner, Ursa recognized the public training grounds, where firebenders and warriors could practice without any criterion besides available space. She remembered that a low stone wall surrounded the arena in front of them, but today this was entirely hidden from view. Packed densely around it, what must have been the capitol's entire population of young noblewomen were intently focused on something Ursa couldn't see.

"There--look," Ting Yan instructed breathlessly, pointing at the scene before them.

"What's going on?'" Ursa asked again, still confused.

"Isn't it great?" her friend enthused by way of explanation. With Dai and Ursa still in tow, she pushed her way to the front of the crowd. "The princes are training here today instead of in the Fire Palace, so we can watch them!"

Suddenly the commotion made sense; it seemed as though every girl in the Fire Nation incessantly swooned over one or both of the Fire Lord's sons. Multitudes idolized charming, wise, and considerate Prince Iroh, and cherished dreams of becoming his Fire Lady. A thousand others fantasized about seeing past the aloof reserve of mysterious, darkly beguiling Prince Ozai. Watching the two royal brothers execute a complicated training regime, Ursa could understand why everyone had gone crazy over them. Although one of the few exceptions to the princes' fangirlbase, she had to admit they were certainly fine to look at. To train, they were wearing typical agni kai garb, and she could see their muscles rippling as they carried out the exacting firebending forms.

"Wow, they're both amazing," Ting Yan sighed, breaking Ursa's reverie. "But if I had to choose which one to like best..." She paused to scrutinize the two firebenders. "I'd probably pick Prince Iroh. He's so funny, and sweet, and super friendly. Plus everyone knows he can totally make the best tea, like, ever! Don't you like him, Ursa?"

"I respect and admire the Crown Prince," admitted Ursa, "and who could not like him? But it's hardly appropriate for me think of marrying him--I'm far too young!" Ting Yan made a face--whether at her friend's reluctance or at the idea of matrimony, Ursa could not tell.

"We're not talking about _marrying_ anyone--we're only fifteen! I just want to know which one is your favorite." Much to Dai's irritation, Ting Yan fell into the "both" category when it came to the brothers; she'd been wavering back and forth between them for weeks.

"Oh, look!" she suddenly exclaimed, once more riveted by the arena. After flawlessly performing a particularly difficult-seeming move, Prince Iroh had looked up and winked at the spectators, who went wild (Ting Yan right along with them).

"They are both worthy, so I could hardly choose between them," Ursa replied evasively as soon as she could make herself heard. When Ting Yan wanted an answer that Ursa didn't have, she was thankful for the soft-spoken diplomacy her mother had instilled in her.

With a pitying shake of her head, Ting Yan eagerly rounded on Dai.

"How about you, then?"

With unperturbed logic, Dai explained, "The only reason I would swoon over someone is if I thought they were going to seek my hand in marriage, and I'm planning to marry wherever it most benefits my family. My being Fire Lady would certainly elevate our status, but it's unrealistic to think that Prince Iroh would choose me. All things considered, I don't know that I'm suited to be the Fire Lord's wife."

"Do you always have to be so pessimistic?" Ting Yan sighed. Brightening, she then suggested, "How about Prince Ozai? He's young, and you wouldn't have to be Fire Lady."

"He'd certainly make a good political match, but I doubt he'd choose me, either. Besides, I don't think I'd want to handle his temper." While the younger prince had largely gained mastery over himself, the explosive anger of which he was still capable was almost legendary.

"Well, _I_ think he's handsome," Ting Yan asserted, returning her attention to the brothers.

"I thought you liked Prince Iroh,"' Dai reminded her shrewdly, raising an eyebrow.

"I do, but they're both good-looking. Right, Ursa?" she added suddenly, as though hoping to surprise an answer from her friend.

"Um, yes," Ursa murmured distractedly, although her attention had been diverted elsewhere during her friends' exchange. Unlikely as it seemed, she could have sworn Prince Ozai met her eyes for a fraction of a second as he sent a sidelong smirk in their direction. As the second prince's fangirls rivaled his brother's in noise level, Ting Yan dreamily went on comparing the two.

"They're both so _muscley_--I guess they have to be, what with firebending and fighting in the war. And they both have such pretty eyes. Prince Iroh's are that nice, warm amber color, and Prince Ozai has eyes like a golden fire."

Briefly she paused, then another thought occurred to her. "And I like Prince Iroh's beard. It's good that he keeps it really short--he'd look like an old man if he had big sideburns. But Prince Ozai looks good without a beard--his jaw is so strong and square--"

"Be quiet, Ting Yan!" Dai cut across her, sounding irritated. "They're about to have a sparring match."

A hush fell over the spectators as the princes walked to opposite ends of the arena, each stopping to kneeling on the ground. When they rose to face each other, they seamlessly incorporated the forms they had practiced into the duel. Even to Ursa's untrained eye, the differences in their styles were apparent, as they moved through forms that were at once beautiful and dangerous.

Iroh, the elder, beloved Crown Prince of the Fire Nation, appeared to caress the flames he drew forth, as though his element were not a tool but a dear friend that willingly obeyed him. Despite his mastery, which bordered on that of a prodigy, he used it wisely and with restraint. Even in his fiercest moves, the fire blossomed almost peacefully under his touch, and Ursa could imagine a smile returning to his face at any moment.

In contrast, Prince Ozai approached the duel with deadly concentration. Alert to his brother's every move, he circled Prince Iroh with languid, catlike grace. When they started bending, he seemed to rely on instinct rather than mastery, as though his element simply manifested the intensity of his spirit. If Prince Iroh's firebending inspired reverence and wonder, Prince Ozai blazed with a terrible glory. Despite his bending style's ruthless majesty, however, Ursa discovered she could not look away. Mesmerized as by a bed of glowing coals, she felt a tremor run through her, whether of exhilaration or fear she could not tell.

The battled raged hotter and faster--Ursa shuddered involuntarily as bolts of fire shot by each of the princes that would have hit if they had moved just an eyeblink too late. With unrivaled skill, Prince Iroh wove a blazing network of intricate lace around his brother, searching for weak points in his defense. With equal determination, Prince Ozai blocked him every time, long black hair flying wildly behind him. Suddenly he unleashed the raw fury of his element, sending a massive firewall towards the firstborn. Although Prince Iroh bent the flames in an arc around him, he appeared to be retreating, and Ursa thought she detected a feral gleam of triumph in the younger prince's eyes.

Then, everything changed in a heartbeat, as Prince Ozai made some mistake too minute for Ursa to catch. All at once the fight was over, the flames extinguished—Prince Iroh had pinned his brother's arms behind him and pulled his head back with the same hand, the other fist raised as though to strike. On his knees in the dust, Prince Ozai stared up at the blow that would never fall.

For a moment longer, silence reigned. Then, the greater part of the crowd erupted in cheers, for all things told, the elder prince had a somewhat larger fanbase than the younger did. However, Prince Ozai's fangirls made up for quantity with ferocity as they booed and hissed for the defeat of their beloved secondborn.

The firebenders also relaxed---Prince Iroh released Prince Ozai, and laid a friendly hand on his shoulder. After the younger prince had stood up and brushed himself off, they made the traditional bow to each other. More casually, the brothers clasped hands, Prince Ozai lightly punching Prince Iroh on the arm as he said something Ursa couldn't hear.

From the wall on the opposite side of arena, they retrieved two lightweight summer robes. Prince Iroh belted on his robe over the agni kai uniform, but Prince Ozai merely threw his own over one shoulder. Then it was the Crown Prince's turn to make an inaudible comment as he gestured with a grin towards their audience, and his brother shrugged in seeming compliance. They approached the now ecstatic crowd, and split up to let their admirers speak to them (with varying levels of coherence).

As it happened, Prince Ozai came in Ursa's direction, accepting the fans' adoration in his coolly gracious manner, an understated remark now and then revealing his dry sense of irony. While also powerfully built, he was more long and lean than Prince Iroh was, and he towered over nearly everyone around him. Watching him (along with everyone around her) Ursa felt a little nervous about being so close to the younger prince (who was, admittedly, very handsome, but that didn't mean she was rabid over him).

Ting Yan, on the other hand, could not contain her excitement.

"Look--he's coming this way!" she squealed practically in Ursa's ear, making her friend wince.

"Shh! He'll hear you," cautioned the politically conscious Dai.

When reached their section of the crowd, Prince Ozai came to a halt. His face unreadable, he captured Ursa in a hawk-like golden gaze.

"Good afternoon, Lady Ursa," he addressed her, his voice liquid velvet. Although startled by his use of her name—_it's been years since the last time_--Ursa tried not to neglect her manners.

"G-good afternoon, Your Highness." Apparently, her surprise was universal—piqued whispering surged through the girls around her. Pursing his lips slightly, Prince Ozai silenced them with a look.

Then he regarded Ursa thoughtfully, murmuring, "It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

"Yes, it has," she agreed, lowering her gaze as was proper (wouldn't Dai be proud). It was easier to concentrate when she didn't have to meet the prince's piercing, flame-colored eyes, but she still felt a little overwhelmed by his rather imposing presence. Wishing she could induce her friends to help her carry the conversation, Ursa peeked quickly at them beneath her lashes. However, Ting Yan was busy staring in thrilled awe at the younger of her idols, and Dai kept her expression carefully respectful and blank.

Perhaps the prince had caught her covert sideways glance after all.

"But I digress--won't you remind me of your companions' names?" he inquired politely.

"Oh--of course," said Ursa quickly, glad to have a duty to fulfill. "This is Ting Yan of the Yu household, and Dai is of the Zhong family."

"Pleased to meet Your Highness again," Dai replied demurely, sweeping an elegant curtsy.

"It's always an honor!" Ting Yan asserted with dauntless adulation.

"I'm glad to hear it," the prince replied, the corners of his mouth turning up in mild amusement. Before Ursa could wonder whether she ought to have curtsied as well, His Highness turned to Dai. "But please, let's dispense with the formalities."

"Very well, sir," Dai assented.

Acknowledging her obedience with a nod, he regretfully observed, "As much as I enjoy making myself accessible to the enraptured multitudes, I suppose it's time Iroh and I returned to the Fire Palace--that is, if my brother has gotten his fangirls under control." As though on cue, the prevalent squealing increased by several notches, and all of them looked over to see a particularly enthusiastic knot of girls extolling the Crown Prince's victory.

"Wow, Your Highness, that was amazing!" one of them gushed.

"Oh, it was nothing," Prince Iroh modestly assured her.

"You don't have to say that—everyone saw how you won the match." The prince laughed, a carefree, lighthearted sound.

"Still...I'd be scared to meet Ozai in a real fight."

"But he's _nothing_ compared to you," the girls insisted.

"That's very sweet of you," their idol told them, pretending to blush.

Watching this exchange, Prince Ozai's cordial aloofness momentarily gave way to the barest of frowns and an infinitesimal tightening of his jaw. Then his sardonic charm returned so completely that Ursa wondered if she'd imagined the glimpse behind it.

''I guess I'd better go tear him away--there's a state dinner tonight, and we certainly can't go like this." He cast a resigned glance down at himself. After the rigorous sparring match, the prince was covered in sweat and dust, tousled hair falling out of his topknot. Judging from the starry-eyed giggles of his admirers, however, they didn't find anything wrong with his current state of grimy dishevelment.

"You'll be there, I presume?" While he addressed all three, it was Ursa's gaze he held, and she once more found herself staring into the heart of a bonfire.

Praying her voice wouldn't squeak, she affirmed shyly, "We all will, Your Highness.'

"Splendid. Then I shall look forward to seeing you there." Favoring them with one more reserved smile, Prince Ozai strode gracefully toward his brother. As they stared after him, Ting Yan voiced the general mood.

"Wow. I know I said I'd choose Prince Iroh before, but now I'm just not sure."

"You shouldn't fall for everyone you see," Dai admonished disapprovingly. "None of the young men will want you if you chase after whoever charms you most at the moment."

"I'm not chasing after either of the princes--just trying to figure out which one I like best. Besides, even if I was serious about marrying one of them, I'd be out of luck with Prince Ozai, because he's _obviously_ got his eye on Ursa."

"What?" Ursa gasped, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks.

"Don't be shy," Ting Yan encouraged. "Everyone saw how couldn't take his eyes off you. And you seemed quite _infatuated_ yourself,"' she added slyly.

"I was nervous because he's a prince," Ursa defended herself. "I'm not used to being around royalty." How could her friend have jumped to such a radically different conclusion?

"But we used to play with him when we were children, when our parents visited the Fire Palace," Ting Yan persisted.

"Yes, but that was a long time ago. I haven't seen him much since he enrolled in the Royal Fire Academy and my family moved to Hai Fen Island." For the past several years, they had lived at her mother's old country estate, which had become very dear to Ursa. However, a few months ago her father had been promoted to a position that required him to spend more time in the court of the Fire Lord. As a result, Ursa's mother had insisted on moving back to the capitol city so that he could return to them more quickly

"So maybe he's amazed at how you've transformed into a beautiful young woman from the little girl he used to play with," Ting Yan conjectured dreamily. "And soon he'll be madly in love with you..."

"How should anyone know his opinion of me?" Ursa interrupted, feeling the need to halt this fantasy before her face grew any redder. "From the little I know of Prince Ozai, it's very hard to tell what he's thinking. Besides..." She hesitated, reluctant to divulge a piece of evidence that would probably embarrass her as much it supported her argument.

"What, Ursa?" prompted Ting Yan curiously.

Deciding it was too late to go back, Ursa revealed self-consciously, "I wasn't always on the best of terms with Prince Ozai—once, he took my hairpin, and I got so angry that I...I punched him in the eye. I hardly think he'd fall in love with me after that." Although Ting Yan appeared unconvinced, it was Dai who answered.

"I'll agree that hitting royalty is a terrible (and possibly fatal) way to gain favor, but it was a long time ago, and you were just children. As strange as I feel saying this, Ting Yan's idea might still be possible." Smoothing down her perfectly arranged hair, she continued, "I'd keep your eyes open, Ursa. If Prince Ozai really is interested in you, it could be a very good thing for your family, especially with your lineage."

"Thank you, Dai!" Ting Yan beamed. Realizing that she it was futile to dissuade them at present from envisioning a royal marriage in her future, Ursa let the matter drop with a sigh.

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A/N: Ursa's in for a surprise, isn't she? But maybe it will be a pleasant surprise...or maybe not. You'll have to keep reading to hear my version of the story.

Speaking of which, did anyone catch the references to the show? I guess a fairly obvious one is how Ozai almost wins his and Iroh's match (like when he usurped the throne), but then Iroh defeats him (like he helped to do in the finale). The ending pose was also kind of a reference to Sozin's Comet, since in Ozai's and Aang's final battle there's also a "blow that never fell" (when Aang decides not to kill him).

I have this idea that Iroh and Ozai were really...y'know, hot when they were younger, and (like I said in the fic) that "every girl in the FN incessantly swooned over one or both of them." :) I have to admit, I was hyperventilating right along with "Prince Ozai's" fangirls (being one myself), so that was kind of a reference to real life. I could sympathize with their reaction to his defeat, too... (It's so confusing when you like characters on opposite sides of a war.) Oh, and I was psyched that I'd figured out a way to mention their current facial-hairstyles, since it seemed too trivial to point out in the narrative. You gotta love that Ting Yan... lol

So, did anyone figure out who Ting Yan and Dai are? It's probably pretty obvious, but feel free to guess in a review, as well as telling me what you thought of the chapter. ;) Not sure when I'll update, but hopefully the plot bunnies will keep biting (if that made sense)... Haha, hurray for mixed metaphors.


	2. Royal Enigma

A/N: Another chapter! You probably won't read this note anyway, so I'll wait to say anything till afterwards. Enjoy!

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Amidst a blaze of color and brilliance, Ursa felt she had strayed into a chaotic whirlwind instead of a royal banquet. Around her surged a human sea in every shade of red, interspersed with gleaming gold. Light from dancing torches and festive lanterns softly shown on the polished floor, winking off a goblet, glimmering on ivory, jade and onyx. Between marble columns, paper screens veiled the adjacent corridors, painted with intricate designs. In the woodwork of the walls, heroes and legends were also carved, acting out a motionless saga.

Although stunning, the banquet hall was rivaled by its occupants; seemingly every noble in the city had come tonight in their silken robes and glowing jewels. As usual among the upper class, gaiety mingled with intrigue. Exchanging whispers behind delicate paper fans, the women laughed and coyly smiled as they discussed the latest fashions and the most shocking scandals. For their part, the men boasted of their accomplishments: how many scrolls they had studied, how many soldiers they had slain. Whether boldly or with subtlety, everyone flaunted their most admirable qualities and deeds; the adults were vying for political power, and the young people for attention from the opposite gender.

After a sumptuous feast, Ursa's mother had formed an embroidery circle with the other ladies while her father discussed politics and produce with his fellow court officials. As usual, Ting Yan could be found at the center of the party, and Dai had been drafted by her parents to meet eligible young men. Left to herself, Ursa wandered through the crowd, lingering by the raised platform where musicians and performing firebenders enthralled the audience in turn.

Across the room, she noticed the princes in a group of noblemen's sons, playing a board game that involved considerable laughter, joking, and heated debate. Like everyone else, the two royals looked magnificent in their party finery, but even their formal robes accentuated the difference between them. Clad in warm, regal crimson, the Crown Prince extended a sheltering aura toward everyone, untouched by the less than noble desires around him.

While Prince Iroh simply rose above the party's manipulative undercurrent, his brother seemed at home in the midst of it. Darkly elegant in deep reds that offset his pale skin, Prince Ozai displayed his mastery at the game of power, controlling each strand of ambition and subterfuge like a spiderfly in a glittering web.

As Ursa watched, the prince stood up, seeming to admit graceful defeat to his companions. Then he casually made his way to where she stood.

"Good evening, Lady Ursa. I'm delighted you could come."

"I am honored to be here, Your Highness."

For a moment, neither spoke, as they watched the current act of fire magicians. Then Prince Ozai broke the silence.

"So, do they put on a better show than we did this afternoon?"

As she carefully replied, Ursa found herself wishing for Ting Yan's light-hearted questioning, where no consequence awaited a wrong answer.

"I can hardly compare the two, because they are so different. Your agni kai was certainly nobler, but I enjoy this kind of firebending as well."

"I'm glad you recognize the disparity between the warrior's art and trivial magic tricks. Many in our audience would not."

"I was taught to respect all benders of your element, but especially honor those who fought with fire for our nation." Listening to her own hushed and reverent tone, Ursa suddenly thought again of Ting Yan, and the resemblance to her friend's hero worship disconcerted her.

Seeming to hold back a grin, the prince dryly commented, "It's actually quite refreshing to talk to one of the few girls in Fire Nation who isn't rabid over me, or my brother. Instead you simply idolize our bending, very appropriately."

Taken aback, Ursa stumbled over her words.

"Oh, well, that is—I am...glad to help, Your Highness."

"Please," he entreated more softly, studying her with a deep yet unreadable gaze. "I get addressed like that enough. Just call me Prince Ozai."

"Very well...Prince Ozai," she obeyed, once more surprised.

"That's more like it," he murmured in satisfaction. Scanning the room, the prince called out to one of the young noblemen who had participated in the earlier board game.

"Hey Zhao, get over here—I want you to meet someone."

His square face alight with friendly interest (and suffering in dignity from the seeming attempt at sideburns sported by his jaw), the youth approached them with a bit of a swagger in his long, purposeful strides.

When he joined the two, Prince Ozai introduced him.

"This is Zhao of the Sheng family. Zhao, this is Lady Ursa of the line of Roku. You might remember each other from the times you both came to the Fire Palace as children. And tried to kill each other, on occasion, but I assume we're past all that."

"Nice to see you again," said Zhao, his appreciative smile confirming that he was indeed "past all that." Leaning over to Prince Ozai, he added in a carrying whisper, "So she's that pretty girl you were talking about."

"Indeed she was," the prince affirmed as Ursa blushed. Then he expectantly regarded the young nobleman, who gave him a puzzled look.

"Aren't you going to complement lady Ursa on her beauty and poise?" Prince Ozai suggested, sounding a little irked at having to spell it out.

Before Ursa could stammer a modest denial, Zhao's grin returned, broader this time.

"Why yes, how could I forget? Lady Ursa, you're very beautiful and..." he trailed off, searching for a word.

"...And exquisite," the royal prompted as Ursa's cheeks grew even hotter.

"Yeah, and exquisite," Zhao finished, turning back to Ursa with a hint of a good-natured smirk.

"You shouldn't let your vocabulary fail you like that," Prince Ozai criticized him in apparent disapproval. "People will think you weren't educated at the Royal Fire Academy."

"Huh. Maybe I should read more," his friend mused.

"Yeah, or you could get an older brother who's in love with the written word, and sounds like a walking dictionary. Iroh would marry his scrolls if he could—I'm not sure how he expects to have heirs that way, but he's never felt overly constrained by logic."

"It would be an interesting marriage," Zhao snorted.

"It would, but I am so not having a piece of parchment for a sister-in-law."

"What about me marrying a piece of parchment?" inquired the Crown Prince, emerging out of the crowd beside them.

Quickly Prince Ozai gave him a younger sibling's typical innocent, "I didn't do it" smile.

"Oh, hello, big brother. We were just talking about how your love of books improves your vocabulary.'' Prince Iroh looked skeptical.

"Sure you were." Letting it drop, he warmly greeted Ursa.

"Good evening, my lovely young friend--it's good to see you again. Are you enjoying yourself? I hope Ozai here isn't giving you a hard time."

With wide eyes, his brother interrupted, "Oh no, Iroh, _I'm_ on my best behavior. I even made sure Zhao properly complimented her when I re-introduced them—just look how pink Ursa's cheeks are," he added slyly.

"Ah, I wondered where that came from," replied the elder prince, his eyes twinkling. "So tell me—how are you? And your family?" Just as Ursa remembered, both from hearsay and her own limited interactions with him, Prince Iroh was still a paragon of enthusiastic courtesy.

"We are all very well, thank you," Ursa shyly answered him.

"I am very glad to hear it, and I want to congratulate you on your father's promotion." Prince Iroh's warm-hearted sincerity, so different from his brother's complex sophistication, made it hard to be nervous around him.

"Thank you, sir," repeated Ursa more confidently.

Wrinkling his forehead, Zhao asked her, "What does your dad do again?"

"He used to oversee the farmlands on Hai Fen Island, where we lived," she explained, "but recently he was appointed Minister of Agriculture for much of the Fire Nation."

Shaking his head, Prince Ozai remarked, "Seriously, Zhao, your knowledge of current events is as sketchy as your vocabulary." He turned a disarming smile on Ursa. "I have no doubt my father is pleased to have someone manage the growing season for him."

"Yeah," Zhao concurred, "and just to prove I do remember something about you, Ursa, you don't have any brothers, do you?"

"No; I'm an only child." Although she counted her many cousins as brothers and sisters, she had no siblings by blood.

"I thought so; I would have heard of them if they'd gone to the Fire Academy. I don't have siblings, either."

Prince Ozai frowned at them enviously.

"Lucky."

"You don't like me, little brother?" the elder prince cried with a show of great distress.

"I hate to break it to you, Iroh, but it's hard to feel all warm and fuzzy about someone who's been pretty consistently annoying you for the last eighteen years..."

"Ozai, your birthday's not for two months," Prince Iroh corrected him.

"Yeah, but I'm counting the first nine," his brother countered.

"I annoyed you even while you were in the womb?" asked Prince Iroh, looking bemused.

"Knowing you, O talented Crown Prince, you could have," replied Prince Ozai with a mocking bow. The elder prince heaved a sigh.

"Since I'm obviously not wanted here, I guess I'll leave the two of you to console my brother for being just that. Looking perturbed, he added, "I really should go, though--I think Father wants me to meet a few more potential Fire Ladies..."

"Have fun with that, big brother," the younger prince smirked.

"Don't get too smug, Ozai. In a few years it'll be your turn."

"I realize that, but I'll probably have more freedom in choosing than you do." He shrugged with nonchalance. "It's one of the few perks of being the second prince."

"I'm glad you appreciate me at least because of that," conceded Prince Iroh, looking pained. In exasperation, his brother waved a hand at him.

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it--I just like having more control than you for once."

"Control freak."

"Tea freak," Prince Ozai shot back, unperturbed. Prince Iroh chuckled, and then smiled at Ursa and Zhao.

"Enjoy the party, you two."

When the elder prince left them, Zhao suggested to Ursa, "You know, instead of consoling Ozai, I think we should flaunt our lack of siblings."

Concerned by this idea, she hesitantly inquired, "Wouldn't it be unfair, though, to side against him like that?"

"Oh no, Ursa," the prince assured her, raising an eyebrow in polite amusement. "Zhao knows I'm the one really in charge here. I mean, my dad doesn't even have to beat up his dad—he can have him executed with one word. Not that Father's planning to, but it proves my point."

"You sure like disturbing people, don't you?" Zhao observed, looking slightly irritated by the joking threat to his father's life.

"I do," agreed Prince Ozai. "It's my hobby, and I take it very seriously. Just ask my brother."

"I'll take your word for it." Becoming thoughtful, he mused, "But speaking of which, it might be interesting to see the Fire Lord execute someone with only one word. Wonder which one he'd use."

In a sinister tone, Prince Ozai demonstrated which word his father would employ.

"_Die_."

The guests nearby turned their heads, and then hurriedly resumed their conversations when the prince caught them staring. As though to shrug it off, Prince Ozai gave an almost natural-sounding laugh. Through a slightly thin smile, he reproached his friend in an undertone.

"Now look what you've done, Zhao. Everyone's remembering my crazy temper."

"Hey, I wasn't the one shouting, 'Die!'" Zhao protested. The prince rolled his eyes.

"I wasn't the one who asked a stupid question. And I did not shout."

"So, Ursa, is our prince scaring you off yet?" joked the young nobleman.

Awaiting a reply, the prince in question also turned to gaze at her, and Ursa noticed again how austere and unfathomable his expression could seem. Whatever intentionally or not, he made her to struggle to collect her thoughts.

"Um, no, of course not."

"You see, Zhao? Ursa knows how to respect a prince." Although he said it mildly, a glint of good humor revealed itself in his eyes.

"And Ursa wasn't your roommate for five years at theAcademy."

"No, we've never been roommates..." Beneath his lashes, the prince cast a sideways glance at her just long enough to set her cheeks aflame yet again (and without even firebending). Then he looked at Zhao with a bored expression. "I _suppose_ rooming with you beats getting tutored at the palace. At least I had someone other than Iroh to associate with."

"That is a plus," Zhao acceded. "But getting back to the subject, I thought you liked inspiring fear and dread."

"I do, but it has to be the right kind of fear and dread and what not. People fear a madman, but they hardly respect him."

"Wow, man, that was deep," teased the other. "You almost sounded like Iroh."

In mock horror, Prince Ozai sent a glance heavenward.

"Agni forbid _that_."

They laughed, and even Ursa timidly joined in.

After a moment of companionable silence, the prince calmly announced, "Zhao, I've decided it's time for you to practice your complimenting skills on the other young ladies."

"Okay... Do I get a choice?" From his relative lack of surprise, Ursa guessed this type of interaction was not unusual between them.

"Not really," answered Prince Ozai. "I'm taking Ursa out to see the gardens. You haven't seen them yet, have you?"

"Only a little, but what I did see was beautiful," she replied.

"It's settled, then. Off you go," he directed Zhao.

"All right, but do I have to go practice my compliments?"

"I'm ordering you to talk to girls and you defy me?" questioned the prince, affecting disbelief. Then he appeared to consider. "If you insist, I suppose I could send you to Iroh's tea table instead..."

"Okay, I'm going," the other youth hastily interrupted, heading towards a knot of giggling noblewomen.

"Idiot," Prince Ozai remarked fondly, watching him go.

At Ursa's troubled expression, he explained, "That's just how Zhao and I are. I don't have many...close friends, but I suppose he's one of them. And this is going to sound incredibly sappy and Iroh-esque, but I wouldn't put so much effort into giving Zhao a hard time if he weren't important to me."

He offered his arm to her, and they strolled through the crowd of nobles toward the entrance. Just before they reached it, however, a voice hailed them.

"My lord prince!"

Looking in the direction it had come, Prince Ozai imperceptibly narrowed his eyes. Following his gaze, Ursa saw a short, round, balding man hurrying up to them, with beady eyes and so many gems and rings that he resembled a giant beetlelizard. When Ursa's escort drew her closer, she looked up to see him transform without a single movement from a cordial host to the powerful Prince. Although he did not frown exactly, his stern, emotionless face could have fit on the wall of Fire Lords, where his own portrait would never hang.

Then Ursa thought his lips were curling in a sneer. However, he simply pursed them in his usual sardonic half-smile, veiling whatever true feelings he harbored.

"Lord Chao," he greeted the newcomer in a silky tone that could have hidden favor or contempt. "Is there something I can do for you?" He weighted every word with hidden meaning, and Ursa knew he would swiftly punish any slips of the tongue in the complicated verbal dual that seemed likely to follow.

"No, no," the nobleman declined, apparently all politeness. "I simply wish to convey the respects of the Da family to the Fire Lord and his sons." The prince infused his reply with a trace of skepticism.

"That's very...kind of you, to seek me out just for that. Are you quite sure there's no request you'd like to make?"

"None at all—except that I hope both the princes will keep the ladies of my family in mind when choosing a wife," he added with a hearty chuckle, and Ursa wondered why the younger prince seemed to dislike him so much.

Allowing himself a smile (or perhaps forcing one), Prince Ozai merely told him, "We shall."

"My humblest thanks," Lord Chao responded with a deep bow, adding, "The Crown Prince's search is going well, I hope?"

"As far as I know. My brother is currently acquainting himself with the eligible noblewomen, but he probably won't reach a final decision for some time."

"May Agni grant him luck," said the nobleman with a show of fervor. "Spirits know he especially will have difficulty with the courtship process."

"Indeed. For that reason, I am grateful to escape it for a few more years." As in the earlier duel, it struck Ursa how much Prince Ozai resembled a predatory feline. This time, however, the supposed fight presented no challenge at all. Perfectly relaxed in his air of easy power, the prince seemed to inwardly be laughing at his opponent, like a pantherwolf toying with its prey.

Still...was there really a need to fight?

"That freedom is certainly to be valued," the lord agreed. "Now that the esteemed Crown Prince must soon lose it, however, may I humbly request that Your Highness ask him to consider my niece, Jing Xiu. Our House would be honored beyond all measure if she were to become Fire Lady."

"I will ask him to keep her in mind, along with his other options," Prince Ozai consented with a note of finality.

"My thanks to you, lord prince," repeated the nobleman obsequiously, seeming to accept that he would receive no further confirmation at present.

Then he started, apparently noticing Ursa for the first time. After a moment's uncertainly, Lord Chao smiled broadly at her. Despite his friendly expression, something about it made the young noblewoman irrationally feel that she had become the prey. As his shrewd eyes bored into her, she fought the urge to shrink closer to her escort, and asked herself if the prince had been right after all.

"But now, what spirit blinded me to the presence of this lovely creature beside Your Highness?"

"This is Lady Ursa, a childhood friend." Once more his tone forbade inquiry, and the nobleman recognized the end of their conversation.

"Charming, truly charming. I'm afraid I must excuse myself, but I am pleased to have met the young lady, and talking to Your Highness is always an honor." As he echoed Ting Yan's assertion of that afternoon, Ursa's apprehension vanished and she had to stifle a sudden urge to giggle. From the way Prince Ozai's mouth twitched upwards, the same thought had occurred to him.

Bowing once more, Lord Chao left them, and the prince steered Ursa away as he spoke in a voice only she could hear.

"That fool is a lying toadsnake, but he fears me, as he should. Stay close to me, and you won't get hurt." Although soft and sibilant, his tone no longer hid the antagonism.

Unsettled by his warning and still confused, Ursa nodded obediently.

"Yes, Prince Ozai." He gave her a look that was almost gentle, and suddenly they emerged into the palace gardens.

Ursa had glimpsed them when her family arrived at the banquet, but now she felt as though she had strayed into a fairytale. Shining like miniature full moons, paper lanterns of gold, crimson and white adorned gables and trees. Here and there an opalescent pool reflected rippling fragments of brilliance. Cherry blossoms clung to black branches like starry mist, diffusing sweetness into the night air. Surrounded by low shrubs and fragrant herbs, other flowers glowed like jewels in the light or flashed startling, vivid colors from the shadows.

Deeper Prince Ozai lead her through the picturesque courtyards, to secluded pathways and alcoves where the only illumination fell streaming the pearly moon. Here the statues seemed half alive, waiting to reenact legends. Otherworldly and bewitching, the night belonged to a realm of imperial fantasy, and in a way the handsome, regal prince did as well. Although he walked at her side, Ursa half feared that he might vanish at any moment.

At last the stone path wound to a hidden nook of the gardens, where a gnarled, spreading tree stood not far from a picturesque stone bench.

"It's lovely," Ursa commented as they seated themselves, admiring the silver sheen that touched everything.

"I'm told my mother liked this spot," Prince Ozai answered quietly. Weakened in childbirth, Lady Ila had passed away shortly after giving life to her younger son.

"Oh," said Ursa, unsure how else to reply. At her hesitation, the prince allowed a faint smile to briefly grace his countenance. As though subdued by the moon, he seemed contemplative and relaxed out in the night.

"I don't come here often, but Iroh does. He's the poetic one—I'm better with logic than poetry, more military-minded."

Recalling that the Fire Lord's sons had not long ago returned from a victorious campaign, Ursa grasped thankfully at a conversation topic.

"Prince Ozai, you were recently away fighting in the war, weren't you?''

"That's right. Iroh and I went to subdue a small town in the Earth Kingdom."

"Did it go well?" Mentally she kicked herself—of course it had gone well, and the capital had celebrated for all of two months (due more to the devotion the princes commanded than to the relatively minor victory). However, Prince Ozai didn't comment on the ignorant question.

"Yes. It wasn't much of a fight." Although still in a reflective mood, he looked internally pleased by the memory, as though he were laughing to himself. "At least, not until the third day. My company was separated from the main force led by my brother. We were surrounded by enemy soldiers, badly outnumbered. My men were dying all around me." His brow furrowing, Prince Ozai looked away. Then his pensive brooding gave way to a look of triumph.

"Surrounded by the fire, smoke, and casualties of war, we might have been on our death pyre. But we rose from the ashes, and I led them to victory. You know how they call Iroh the "Dragon," even though he hasn't killed one yet?" he added with a sidelong glance at Ursa.

She nodded.

"Suffice it to say, I've got my own nickname now. A different beast of legend." Once more the corners of his mouth curved upward, and this time the reason was apparent. Thinking of the proud and beautiful Phoenix, Ursa decided the metaphor suited him.

Seeming to forget her presence, Prince Ozai softly continued.

"And they were the ones burning and bleeding—they begged us for mercy we would not give, screaming as our fury consumed them. There was _no escape_." Already sinister, the words became terrifying when he crooned them lovingly, staring into space as though lost in a fantasy.

Ursa felt a chill run down her spine. Drenched bonewhite in the moon's dreamlike glow, the prince suddenly made her think of of a ghostly apparition in robes the color of blood. Even his eyes were bleached silver, the golden blaze only glinting deep within as he conjured up images of blood and fire.

Suppressing a shudder, Ursa managed to keep her voice steady.

"Congratulations on your victory, Prince Ozai." However, the words came out too high-pitched, and her royal companion looked at her with concern.

"Ursa, I'm sorry--did I upset you?" The illusion shattered, he no longer seemed a deathly phantom; just the prince who was nearly as mysterious.

"Please, don't concern yourself. I'm just not used to hearing about the war—what it's really like."

"It isn't for the faint of heart," he acknowledged gravely. "I have seen things, on the battlefield...that I will never forget." Then a fierce, exultant joy, roared to life in his tone and expression.

"But it's worth it all to bring glory to our nation, and to win honor for ourselves." At his stirring words, Ursa felt an upsurging of fealty towards her country, so deeply rooted in every Fire Nation citizen. All at once, however, the atmosphere changed again.

As though inviting Ursa to laugh with him, Prince Ozai raised an eyebrow in good-humored irony; their weighty conversation sharply contrasted with the light-hearted royal party.

"But I'm being rude--enough about me. Tell me about yourself."

Embarrassed, she replied, "There isn't much to tell."

"But surely there's something," he persisted. "Your family used to live on Hai Fen Island, correct? Did you enjoy your time there?"

"Oh, yes," Ursa breathed, beginning to lose herself in reminiscence. "We had orchards, and such beautiful countryside. Sometimes I walked to my favorite little spot on the shore, to watch the sun come up or go down."

"That sounds lovely," Prince Ozai remarked thoughtfully. For a moment longer, he remained motionless—noble and unreachable as a statue. Then he looked up to regard her once more.

"I am curious, Lady Ursa. Will you answer a question for me?"

"Of course."

"Has the...prejudice of others given you difficulty, because you are Roku's grand-daughter?"

"Sometimes," she admitted a bit reluctantly, "but I've learned how to...avoid conflicts like that." Taking a deep breath, she forged ahead. "I am loyal to your family, and I understand that the Avatar...was not—at least, not in the way he should have been. But still, I am...proud to be descended from him."

"You should be," he encouraged her gravely. "Your grandfather was strong enough to defeat mine before their twenty-year estrangement."

"Thank you," she replied, and then hesitated. "Of course...it wasn't that way, when they met again."

His voice sombre yet gentle, Prince Ozai reminded her, "Every act of treason should be punished by the Fire Lord."

"Yes, of course you are right," she deferred, laughing self-consciously to hide her mixed feelings on the subject. Although loyal to the Crown, she had always loved the stories of her grandfather's life.

Smiling crookedly, the prince observed, "It's been such a long time, hasn't it, Ursa? I know I already said that, but it's true. So much has changed."

"It has," she agreed, glad to discuss a more lighthearted topic. "I remember I used to love coming here to see the turtleduck pond."

"Yes, and I would get so irritated that you never left it while you were here. Once, I even snatched away your hairpin! How silly of me."

Giving another nervous laugh, Ursa hoped he wouldn't remember how that incident had turned out.

Unfortunately, he did.

"Of course, I did enjoy your reaction to said theft, though not at the time. You don't strike me—so to speak—as the aggressive type, but you actually left a bruise." Did he seem...impressed?

Deciding not to take a chance, Ursa quickly confessed, "I was very foolish to do so."

A shrug preceded an elegant smirk.

"Undoubtedly, but I like a girl with some fire in her spirit as well as her blood--that's why I'd never choose Lord Chao's niece to be _my_ wife, besides the fact that her uncle's a greedy fool. She's too dull and obedient."

Surprised, Ursa couldn't form an immediate reply, but she didn't have to.

"Ursa, there you are!" cried familiar, cheerful voice. "We came to--oh, I'm sorry, Your Highness! I didn't see you there."

"You would have, if you had been looking," reprimanded Dai as she joined Ting Yan, bowing to the royal. "Good evening, my lord prince."

He gave a regal nod.

"Good evening, Lady Dai and Lady Ting Yan."

With a blushing titter, the latter continued, "Ursa, your parents are looking all over for you."

"We do apologize, Your Highness," added Dai. "Duty requires us to collect our friend."

"In that case, I shall allow you to spirit her away," he replied graciously. "I should hope a prince understands the call of duty. Until next time, Lady Ursa--I hope you enjoyed our conversation as much as I did."

Finding it difficult to concentrate on anything but the way his voice seemed to caress her name, she affirmed, "Yes, I did, Prince Ozai." Ursa could feel her friends' curiosity--Dai's carefully concealed, and Ting Yan's hardly contained--at the less formal mode of address, and knew that she would have to recount the whole story in detail.

He smiled once more, and then Ursa let the other two lead her away from the fascinating, enigmatic prince in the moonlit garden.

-

* * *

-

A/N: Sounds like someone's falling in love, even if she doesn't know it yet... Or so Ting Yan would have us think, but we'll just have to wait and see. Matters are about to get a lot more complicated, but i won't say how (i don't yet know exactly how myself, i must confess--i know what happens, just not all the particulars of why).

I had fun writing this. I like the first scene, but this one really gets into the characterization and interaction, as well as all that fun political intrigue... I'm proud of how the descriptive passages turned out, but i feel like that dialogue with Lord Chao didn't come out quite how i wanted it to. Hopefully it still gets the point across, though. (I realized he didn't seem sufficiently...shifty, you know, so I added the bits where Ursa's wondering why exactly Ozai seems to despise him--I didn't want Ozai to seem like he was doing it for no reason.) Plus, the parts with Zhao and Iroh were fun--i especially liked the bit between the princes when it comes out that apparently Ozai was annoyed by his older brother even before he was born. lol Poor Iroh.

I don't have a lot more to say, but I think I'll go ahead and do a "question of the chapter" each time. So for this one, you may have noticed I put in several references to the show--can anyone count how many? I haven't counted (not yet, anyway), but you're welcome to guess. I'll probably count later so that i can confirm any right answers.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, and you will have my eternal gratitude if you review. I may not update till after Christmas, but I do plan to finish this. It kind of reminds me of those complicated Zutara plots where they go off alone on an adventure and fall in love...but I'd better not say too much. I will tell you, though, that I do ship Urzai like some people ship Zutara...which is to say, passionately! lol


	3. Fairytale Ending

_Why_ is he doing this to me? Doesn't he think I'm more important than that? What does he mean, for my own good? Couldn't he have _waited_ a year or two? This was the only part of my life that was entirely my own, so what spirit _blinded_ him--

I guess I'd better explain.

First of all, this is _not_ a journal, although Iroh probably intended it for that purpose when he gave it to me. (Stupid birthday present. Doesn't he know me at all?) I just need a place to get my thoughts onto paper, so that I can evaluate my options and logically figure out a solution. _If_ there is one to this stupid mess...but no, I'm staying calm.

This is actually the first time I've written about my life, and I probably wouldn't be doing it if I thought I had an alternative. Just now I was firebending out in the training arena, like I usually do when I need to vent my feelings, but Sifu Gen forced me to stop and do something less strenuous for a while. When I demanded a reason, he muttered some nonsense about me being on the verge of passing out. Actually, that sounds like a nice alternative to this—this _situation..._

If I'm going to record and analyze my thoughts, it might be helpful to get on with it. So first, I'll write down what happened that got me into this predicament. Hopefully I can manage to think about today's events in that much detail without frying this book to a crisp.

All right, then--it started when Father summoned Iroh and me to his office. (Father. Right. Excuse me while I struggle not to commit the worst kind of treason. For which Iroh would have to murder me. Be my guest, brother dear—then you'll be free to conquer the world in peace and love, without your not-so-peaceful family mucking things up.)

On the other hand, maybe it started at the banquet, with petty, selfish noblemen like that toadsnake Chao looking to weasel their way into our favor, more out of ambition than real loyalty to us. May all of them burn in Agni's wrath.

Anyway, Father was waiting for us with some kind of monumental announcement to make. When we stole into his study and knelt with our heads to the floor, he didn't look up from his desk right away. I guess he finishing up whatever he was doing, or maybe figuring out how to break the news to us. (I'm not sure why he was worried, to tell the truth. It's not like we would have totally lost it in his presence, no matter how upset we were.)

We waited, listening to our breathing, and at last he acknowledged us. Although I couldn't see anything but the grain of the floorboards, he sounded solemn and careworn, exactly what you'd expect for a great leader (who will always be followed—no matter how pitilessly he leads).

"My sons, I have come to a decision regarding the two of you." When he told us that so somberly, I wanted to glance at my brother and silently question him (although he didn't know much more about it than I did). I knew better in Father's presence, though. So instead, we just waited motionlessly for him to continue, to seal our fate with one word. (I was right; he really can do that.)

"As you know, the noble houses are fiercely competing for the honor of a royal marriage."

Yep, thanks for the heads up, Dad. Iroh and I kind of figured that out when a million girls started wildly screaming wherever we went.

"These power struggles have always existed, but lately they have escalated beyond the usual petty conspiracies among the nobility. Disturbing rumors have reached my ears. Even loyalty to the Crown may not deter some houses from employing any means necessary to reach their goals."

"Father, what do you mean?" asked Iroh. "What methods would they use?"

"I have become aware of threatened plots to kidnap or poison one or both of you in secret, so that by openly providing the rescue or the cure, a nobleman may demand a princely son-in-law to repay his deed. Because I do not wish my sons to be in danger, I have decided it is time to demonstrate that we will not tolerate insubordination, and so I intend to remove the problem completely."

My brother voiced another question.

"How do you wish your servants to assist in this endeavor?"

"Prince Iroh, you must choose a bride as quickly as possible. I am sorry to hasten your loss of freedom, but it must be done."

"I will do as my Lord commands."

Father granted him a rare smile--the kind he only ever gives Iroh.

"You are wise, my firstborn."

While I wasn't too keen on speeding up the end of my bachelorhood, I wanted to show "my Lord" that I am also his loyal son, and will do what I must for our nation.

"Shall I begin looking as well?" I offered, trying to clear the air of paternal mushiness.

"No, Prince Ozai." My heart leaped, but with false hope, as I discovered a second later.

"For you, I have already chosen a bride." I couldn't believe my ears.

"What?" I inquired softly, forgetting protocol and staring up at him.

Austere and unreadable, he gazed back down at me.

"I will not ask you to enter into matrimony for a few more years. As soon as possible, however, arrangements shall be made for your betrothal to Lady Ursa of Roku's line." Oh, look--another shock.

"I am to be married...to Lady Ursa?"

"Yes, my son."

"But why?" I blurted out, then remembered to whom I was speaking. "That is, you are permitting my brother to choose his own bride. I wish to know...why you are dealing differently with us."

Giving a weighty sigh, Father answered, "Prince Iroh is five years older than you are, and I believe he is capable of selecting a suitable partner." So he doesn't trust my judgment.

Recognizing that my infamous temper wouldn't help at the moment, I forced myself to speak calmly.

"Before he selects a wife, do you not fear that conspiracies will target him? Or do you consider him invulnerable?"

"As Crown Prince, Iroh does face greater danger," Father conceded with a hint of impatience. "Nonetheless, I consider him less vulnerable than my younger son, who has not yet learned how control his anger and his pride."

So he thinks I can't take care of myself, and on top of that, I'm conceited and immature.

"To effectively rule a country, one must not be distracted by an unhappy union, and so I wish to give Prince Iroh the opportunity to find a happy one."

Blazing Comet...! Usually Father at least _tries_ to keep the favoritism to a minimum!

"I believe I could choose a good match for myself as well," I maintained. "I promise you I will be careful, and keep myself under control. Please, Father--give me a chance."

Not like it will matter if something happens to me. I'm secondborn, remember?

"No!" he forcefully refused. "I am already allowing you to retain your freedom longer than your brother, and you have no right to beg for more than that."

Lowering his voice, Father explained, "I am trying to protect you, Prince Ozai. I will not take chances."

Protect me? Am I still just Iroh's kid brother, always in his shadow?

"I'm almost eighteen!" I protested. "I'm not a child any more."

"You are a member of the royal family, and we have a duty to our nation. My word is final."

Knowing from experience how pointless it would be to argue further, I merely went dead inside.

"Then I won't question you. But please tell me: why Ursa?"

"You will remember that I retired directly after the last state dinner to confer with my generals. However, your brother attested later that you spent much time with her that evening. He also told me how often you spoke of her, and with what pleasure, as you never do of other noblewomen." After pausing briefly (no doubt to find the words that would best assuage my indignation), he continued.

"I have not spoken to her, but from my observation at the feast, she seems well-mannered and even-tempered; she may prove the ideal wife to calm your passions and balance your pride. Besides that, her parents are loyal to me, and I believe it will benefit us to secure an alliance with the Avatar's line. While other families exert greater political influence, theirs is the superior lineage."

Not really processing much of what he said, I turned my head slowly to Iroh.

"My brother suggested this?"

The Crown Prince spoke quietly, looking troubled (yeah, like he should care).

"I only conveyed to our esteemed father your evident regard for Lady Ursa. I knew nothing of my Lord's planned course of action until now."

"I realize you are unhappy with my decision," Father addressed me once more, "but I am implementing it for your own good, as well as for the benefit of our people."

For. My. Own. Good.

Suddenly I felt like I couldn't breathe—I had to get out of there.

"Father, is there anything else you wish to impart?" I asked him, hoping my desperation to leave wouldn't show.

A moment longer he regarded us, and then turned back to his work.

"No, my sons, you may go."

After lowering ourselves again to a full kowtow, Iroh and I got up and left his office. For a while, we walked side by side without speaking, matching step for step. When we had gone far enough that he wouldn't hear us, I let the shock and anger wash over me again, and I exploded.

With a grunt of fury, I slammed my fist into the wall, and the torch beside us flared up to twice its size.

I heard Iroh's voice, low and urgent, behind me.

"Brother, are you all right?" Eager to have a less unfeeling target for my rage, I rounded on him.

"What do you think? My marriage is about to be arranged without any input from me. Oh yes, I'm perfectly fine!"

Iroh looked at me, his eyes full of concern. I hate it when he does that—I feel so weak when he insists on sympathizing with me. I'm not some little kid that he has to fuss over like a mother henpig.

"Ozai, I'm sorry."

I gave him a laugh, dripping with sarcasm.

"Sorry for what? Giving Father the idea that I should tie the knot with Ursa? Nice going, big brother."

"I didn't know this would happen, or I wouldn't have said anything!" he cried in frustration. "I had no idea Father would take action so soon; I was only speculating about the future."

With a raised eyebrow, I scathingly informed him, "It looks like the future is now." Still searching restlessly for a way out, I glanced away and then back at him.

"Just tell me one thing: why do you get to choose your princess when I don't?"

Iroh knit his brow, apparently finding it difficult to pick the right words.

"I know you're not a child, but Father still thinks of you that way. Unlikely as it seems, he's trying to look after you."

What a load of nonsense. I snorted in disbelief.

"Look after me? Are you sure he's not just trying to save us all from my flaming temper and lack of judgment? Or perhaps..." I narrowed my eyes. "Perhaps he just doesn't care enough to be bothered with his second son."

"That's not true!" Iroh exclaimed with feeling. "Father cares about you—I can promise you that. He's proud of you too, even if he doesn't always show it."

You promise me Father's affection and approval, when for him you eclipse me in every way?

In that moment, I hated my brother, whose life is so perfect, and just beyond my reach. It really isn't a good idea to attack the Fire Lord's precious firstborn (at least, when you're not sparring with him), so I spun on my heel and practically fled to someplace I could express my rage in fire.

"Brother, where are you going?" he softly called after me.

"To train," I answered shortly. Looking back at him, I went on with acid politeness.

"Unless, of course, His Royal Highness wishes to further constrict my freedom?"

"Go train, Ozai. Agni knows I won't stop you."

And that's how I ended up in the arena, firebending my heart out. As I turned the corner, though, I glimpsed Iroh hiding his face in his hands, and a small part of my anger turned to satisfaction. For once let him be the one to suffer.

I haven't seen Iroh since then, and I'm planning to avoid him as long as I can. Usually, I can tolerate my brother, and keep my jealousy reigned in. Sometimes I even enjoy his company--we may be rivals, but we're friendly ones. Or we were, until he surpassed me in everything.

Everything. There's nothing left over which I alone have power; I'm just a second-rate alternative to the throne.

Right, then. I did this so I could figure out a plan. So, what am I going to do? I've got to think...

Now there's an idea.

Father is commanding me to marry Ursa; he never said I had to like her. Granted, he believes I do (thanks in part to my wonderful elder brother) , but we can change that.

Really, it's a pity that he's giving my hand to the one girl I might have chosen, if I could have. Since I have no choice, however, I _will_ keep my freedom in another way. I'll simply snuff out whatever attraction I felt towards her; it shouldn't be harder than defeating enemy troops.

And while I'm enduring a "relationship" I didn't ask for, why not spread the love, so to speak? I'll convey the news to my future bride personally, so she won't be entertaining any delusions about that night at the party. After that, it's full-out war--something I'm good at. Who knows? Maybe if we fight hard enough, they won't force us together. If not, at least it's better than moping in silence.

Well, would you look at that. Getting revenge really does work wonders when life isn't so hot. I feel almost as good as if I weren't being forced to marry the Avatar's grand-daughter. But now, I'd better prepare to deliver her that message.

Sorry, Ursa. Your Prince Charming isn't going to sweep you off your feet.

-

* * *

-

"So Ursa, when do you think he'll come visit you?" Ting Yan questioned her for the thousandth time.

"I told you, Ting Yan--I don't know," Ursa sighed. "We're not even sure that he likes me."

Today the girls had selected Ursa's house as their preferred haunt, and were practicing their needlework in the garden. Although nearly two weeks had elapsed since the royal banquet, Prince Ozai had single-handedly dominated their conversation. True to her premonition, Ursa had recounted the story many times, enduring questions and speculation about every detail. Suffice it to say, Ting Yan was now convinced of Prince Ozai's intended courtship, and even Dai continued backing her up.

Now their quiet friend pointed out, "It wouldn't have to be a romantic visit—it sounds to me like the prince at least wishes to rekindle a friendship with you."

"Well, perhaps," conceded Ursa, choosing not to remind her that Prince Ozai couldn't exactly rekindle what hadn't existed. Nonetheless, she found herself drawn to the idea.

Since the party, her resolve not to let Ting Yan's ideas carry her away had been undermined from within. Truth to tell, at odd moments she found herself replaying that night in her head, or dreamily staring into space, a half smile on her lips. To complicate matters, a flight of internal butterflies usually accompanied the prince's name, leaving Ursa rather perturbed.

_Do I...like him? And did his attention at the banquet mean that he, after all, likes me too?_

"Ursa—what's that?" Dai interrupted her musings as sounds reached them of a disturbance in the front courtyard.

Ceasing her embroidery, Ursa stood up.

"I suppose we'd better find out what's happening."

Sewing in hand, the three girls made their way around the side of the house as Ting Yan gave them a running commentary of her thoughts.

"Ooh, this is exciting! Aren't you excited, Ursa? Wonder if it's him!"

When they came to a little side entrance to the courtyard, Ursa overheard a manservant addressing his master.

"Shall we put the komodo-rhinos in the stable, sir?"

Then her heart stopped as a deep, silky voice replied.

"Just stay with them here. I won't be long."

Seeming barely able to contain herself, Ting Yan suppressed a squeal of glee, and Dai let her blank expression change to one of interest. As for Ursa, it required all her concentration to calm down her heart, which had begun racing twice as fast when it started up again.

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go in!" Ting Yan proposed.

"Wait," Ursa managed to pant. "He's _royalty—_we can't just charge in unannounced. We have to wait for my parents to call us."

"That's very wise," Dai approved, as Ting Yan released a loud sigh of yearning.

Not long afterwards, however, Ursa's mother came out to look for them.

"There you are, Ursa. You should come—Prince Ozai has graced us with his presence, and he has very important news." Wondering what message could have resulted in the prince's visit and her mother's excited tone, the young noblewoman turned curious eyes to her friends, who still looked as surprised as she felt that Ting Yan had guessed correctly.

"We'll go, because this is a family matter," Dai told Ursa, firmly drawing away their insatiable friend. When indignant protests failed to move the speaker's heart of stone, the latter reluctantly consented, but delivered a last adjuration as she lagged behind Dai.

"Tell us _everything_ as soon as you can, Ursa!"

"I will," she promised, and followed her mother into the house.

They reached the front parlor, where Ursa's father and Prince Ozai stood conversing. Both turned as the women entered.

"Ursa, His Highness informs me you re-acquainted yourselves at the banquet," her father revealed by way of greeting.

'"Yes, we have," Ursa replied as her mother sent her a reproachful glance for not telling them. Although she hadn't purposefully concealed it, the young noblewoman preferred to let events of this nature unfold without discussing them overmuch, and Ting Yan's refusal to heed that wish had sapped Ursa's mental energy.

The master of the house broke into his daughter's thoughts.

"That is well, for His Highness also has news for us. Does my lord prince wish to speak it once more?" he requested of their royal guest.

"Indeed. Ursa, we have learned of plots among the nobility; even treacherous thoughts. Unashamed, they fight among themselves like foxdogs to determine which nobleman's daughter earns the title, "Princess". My father has decided we must establish our authority and end this foolish squabbling. And while we're at it, why not remove the bait?"

"The Fire Lord is wise," observed Ursa's father.

"Yes, he is," the prince agreed softly, his gaze turning inward as though reflect on a troubling memory. Then he met their eyes , business-like and powerful.

"My brother has agreed, at Father's request, to hasten his search for a wife as much as he can. However, our father has a slightly different plan for me." He looked straight at Ursa. "It is his wish that you become my princess."

Hardly before the young noblewoman had a chance to process this statement, her mother cried, "Isn't it wonderful? You are to be His Highness's bride!"

Ursa gasped.

"I...we are to marry?"

"According to my father, yes." Strangely, although he looked perfectly pleased, Ursa thought his satisfaction didn't appear completely natural. "We won't actually wed for a few years, but we are to be engaged as soon as possible."

"But...does His Lordship not intend to grant us a choice?" Despite her growing fond regard towards the prince, Ursa didn't feel ready to rush into his arms.

As though to laugh off her misgivings, Prince Ozai silenced her parents' reprimands with a half-teasing inquiry of his own.

"You would question the Fire Lord's word? Surely you don't mean I'm not good enough for you." Somehow the mirth in his voice didn't quite reach his eyes--or had Ursa imagined the hint of a challenge in them?

"Oh, no--I didn't mean that," she hastily assured him, her head spinning with the monumental revelation. "I simply hoped...to have more time to enjoy being a carefree young girl, before having to consider suitors and engagements."

"Time's up, I'm afraid," the prince told her almost ruefully (but she wondered if humor had really caused the curling of his lip). "I realize it's a little soon to think about marriage, but you should be grateful for my father's haste, Ursa. Forming attachments can be dangerous, and often they lead to unnecessary heartache. Wouldn't you agree?" he inquired of her mother.

Thoughtfully the noblewoman replied, "I believe that, as much joy as love may bring, one should prepare to accept happiness in whatever way the spirits bestow it."

Ursa wasn't listening. Had Prince Ozai meant that he didn't wish their union to produce anything but heirs and political power? In that case, what had happened to the reserved but considerate prince who had taken her under his wing at the banquet? Surely the concern he had shown wasn't merely a phenomenon elicited by the sun's absence. Although Ursa had wanted to let their relationship unfold on its own, perhaps she could still salvage a fairytale ending now that her life had abruptly changed.

The voice of her betrothed-to-be called her back to earth.

"There, you see, Ursa? You should listen to your mother—love isn't everything."

It was then she recognized the false note she had noticed in the prince's manner. Just subtly enough that she wouldn't have picked it up if she hadn't seen his more courteous side, the prince instructed her with knowing condescension, as one might speak to a small child who stubbornly clings to ignorance. While no contemptuous animosity poisoned his words as in their conversation with Lord Chao, this gentler, sickly-sweet venom still burned when he inexplicably directed it at her, killing her newfound optimism. Dumbfounded, she stood still as a forest animal in the gaze of a predator, trying to understand why he no longer respected her values.

Detecting her confusion, Prince Ozai once more addressed Ursa's parents.

"Would you allow me to speak privately with your daughter, perhaps out in your garden? I can see this is a little much for her to take in."

"Of course, Your Highness," they complied. As Ursa once more took his proffered arm, the moment struck her as a surreal echo of that night in another garden. This time, however, his shadow no longer seemed like a safe haven. Nonetheless, she clung to the hope that he still thought her worthy of concern, as his suggestion implied.

While less expansive and elaborate than the palace grounds or even their orchards on Hai Fen Island, the flowering courtyards around their family's city house were still quite lovely. At present, however, Ursa had too much on her mind to pay attention to the scenery. Leading her to a little grove of blossoming fruit trees, the prince turned to face her and crossed his arms.

"Well?" he inquired pointedly, dropping his usual sophisticated charm. "Something is obviously on your mind, so I suggest you spit it out."

As troubled and dazed as she felt, Ursa did her best to pull herself together so she could give a coherent answer; a lifetime's happiness depended on it.

"Prince Ozai, I don't understand. The Fire Lord is arranging our marriage, isn't he?"

"That's right...unfortunately."

In bewilderment, Ursa stammered, "Un...fortunately?"

The prince gave a hollow laugh.

"You didn't think I'd welcome being wed to some country-dwelling noble I barely know, did you?"

"You don't...want to marry me?"

"I was wondering when you'd catch on." Then he added, "You actually thought you were good enough for me? Funny—it seemed like you were different from the other girls."

That remark stung; Ursa hadn't realized how much she wanted to be set apart from Prince Ozai's screaming fangirls.

"Forgive me--I simply thought...that we could begin a friendship, perhaps." Blinking back tears, she wondered what could have so drastically altered the prince's opinion of her.

"Weren't you listening?" he questioned her, looking exasperated. "I don't have close friends, especially not when said individual is some nobleman's daughter with whom I've hardly even conversed."

Glancing down at her trembling hands, Ursa tried to keep the tremor from her voice.

"If you have no desire for friendship, what will happen when we are wed? Couldn't we still...?"

"Fall in love?" Prince Ozai asked derisively. Looking matter-of-fact, he continued, "I fail to see how that's possible. We're too different."

"So to you, I'll only be..." She trailed off, going still and cold inside.

"...a woman to produce heirs and expand the royal line," he finished, and the words cut her even deeper because he looked so unconcerned. "Don't let your feelings distract you, Ursa. As I said, they only create problems later on."

A tear escaped to roll down her cheek. "But....I want to have a husband who doesn't think I'm a 'problem.'"

"Frankly, I don't care what you want," Prince Ozai told her with refined savagery. "We royals have a duty to our nation, and you will soon become one of us. For decades, my family has striven to conquer an empire for our people. You should be proud to help us do that, in your own small way." Even while ruthlessly destroying her dreams of a meaningful romance, the prince could seem captivating and worthy of honor, and his dark charisma both enthralled Ursa (even now) and ripped her apart.

Half imploring, she cried, "Is love really worthless to you?"

"I'm a son of the Fire Lord. I have more important things to worry about than love," he answered with contempt.

Looking away as though to search for an alternative, she murmured half to herself in calm desperation.

"I don't want to be the wife of someone who doesn't care about me."

With brutal clarity, the prince informed her of their reality.

"You don't have a choice--Father's word is final. Very soon you will be my betrothed, and in just a few short years, you will be my princess."

As he callously described her whole life, Ursa couldn't help but let a sob escape.

"Control yourself," the prince commanded sharply. "I will not have my wife embarrassing me with her raging hysteria during important negotiations." Looking at her critically, he observed, "It will take a lot of work to make you fit for palace life; royals can't go chasing about after sunsets and feeding wild animals. Of course, that's only to be expected from the descendants of a foolish, peace-loving traitor--"

Ursa gasped, and they both stood still in the aftermath of the previous instant. Half-blinded by tears and internal agony, she had raised a hand to slap Prince Ozai, royalty though he was; the insult to Roku had pushed her over the edge. Swift as lightning, the prince had caught Ursa's wrist in mid-strike, and her fingers spread helplessly like a captured bird.

He stared at the noblewoman in fascination, assessing her like an unexpected development on the battlefield.

"So you have spirit. At least I won't be bored."

"Let me go," she tried to demand, but her voice broke and it came out as a pleading whisper. Deep and velvet, his tone mocked her.

"I will never let you go—you're mine now, Ursa. And since we're repeating history..." His eyes never leaving hers, the prince deliberately reached up and pulled the hairpin from her topknot, so that Ursa's hair came tumbling loosely down over her face.

Although her vision was now too obscured to see him, Prince Ozai once more sounded as though he were laughing to himself—this time with a trace of cruelty that she didn't remember.

"Now you look the way you act." Leaning down to her ear, he crooned a warning, but she heard the hard edge to his voice.

"I will remember this, my _princess._"

Then he released her so abruptly that she stumbled backward and fell onto the grass, and it was the prince's turn to leave her alone in the garden. As from a great distance, the sounds floated back to Ursa of her parents bidding their royal guest farewell, of shouted orders from the courtyard, and of komodo-rhinos galloping away.

For a long time, Ursa didn't go back inside.

She was too busy weeping as though her heart would break in the empty grove.

-

* * *

-

A/N: Oh no, a cliffhanger! (Thanks for the hits, but see? This is what you get when you don't review, except for TrueThinker whom I thank. Well, this isn't really a consequence of no reviews, but still...) That was intense, wasn't it? I was choking up as i proofread just now. Ozai really is being a jerk right now, but I'll tell you this: don't take everything he said quite at face value. He's good at lying.

Before I go any further, I want to mention that several things in this chapter, including some of the characterization, were influenced by "Excerpts from the Diary of Princess Ursa" by Karalora, which I highly recommend. I think the last chapter may have been influenced by her fic, too. Also, I probably got the idea for Ursa stumbling backwards when Ozai finally let her go from "Engulfed" by Ieyre, which I recommend IF you don't mind explicit content. It's a good fic, but there's a reason it's rated M.

Anyway, there are a lot of parallels in this chapter. Mainly, Ozai echoes Azulon in telling Ursa and her parents about their arranged marriage, and some of Ursa's reactions echo Ozai's when they each find out about it. Speaking of which, how did you like the "book that's not a journal"? I've seen a couple diary fics from Ursa's POV (the other one being "Burn After Reading" by ebonyquill, which I urge you to read--maybe if enough people review, the author will update!), but I thought it'd be interesting to try it from Ozai's POV. And it was fun to write in his voice! I love that dark sense of irony he has... Well, to be honest, I love pretty much everything about him--or I think it makes him an awesome villain. Yeah, I'm one of those hopeless fangirls like in the story.

No-one really answered my last question of the chapter (as i recall), so never mind that, and how about this one: What evidence can you find to support Iroh's assertion that Azulon cares about Ozai as well as his firstborn? (lol I sound like I'm giving an essay prompt.) I did put some in there, but I'll let you see if you can find it.

I'm not sure when I'll update, but I obviously wrote this one a lot quicker than I thought I would, so I'm not too pessimistic about it. I'm about to visit my extended family, though (my immediate family is coming to pick me up at college tomorrow morning!), so I'm not sure how exactly much time I'll have.

Hope you enjoyed, and please review! (I respond to every single review. Does that help? Don't make me do my baby foxdog eyes.)


	4. Brotherly Intervention

Once again I've been driven from the training arena, and writing in this book is my only alternative for venting.

It's done. I broke Ursa's heart. It wasn't hard; she obviously harbored some feelings for me, no doubt encouraged by my attention at the party. So I tore down what I had built up, and I tried to be thorough about it. I must admit, I was intrigued by her seeming admiration for me; I even reconsidered, at first.

But only for a moment. I will be free, and to do that I must kill any budding flower of romance between us. I must be ruthless to myself as well as Ursa. Why should I consider it too high a price, if fealty to my country and my Lord demands no less of me? (You see, Father? I am your loyal son. You may lock my gilded cage, but this will stay true.)

I suppose some (whom I'd consider sentimental fools) might wonder why I'm insisting on torturing myself instead of happily wedding the girl I'd most likely have chosen anyway. It's simple: I wouldn't be happy. However perfect a match we'd make, Iroh's greater freedom (not power, _freedom_) would constantly be gnawing at me. You could accuse me of being cruel, but mine is a brutal _mercy_, at least to myself. In a way, perhaps it is to Ursa as well. Her husband would never fully be hers; jealousy would be stealing his heart.

When I watched the tears run down her face, smudging her makeup as she realized that her husband would be no lover, it had little affect on me. Unfeeling and remorseless as my element, I only experienced a calm sense of justice now that someone else had to suffer as well. When I returned to the Fire Palace, for a while my situation didn't seem so bad.

But then the helpless rage seeped back into my mind as I understood more fully that my "solution" doesn't change my problem from the outside. So I've been living in the arena in the two days since I visited Ursa. When I get kicked out because someone else wants to train or fight or whatever, I don't speak much; no more manipulative eloquence. I'm too angry, and it takes all my strength to keep myself under control. They're lucky my temper's so much better contained now—I might burn down the palace if it weren't.

Speaking of which, even bending doesn't bring complete relief, although it helps more than anything else. It just dulls the inward rage I feel. For that matter, I've always had a small fire of jealousy burning in a corner of my mind, ever since I truly learned what it meant to be secondborn.

But now, it blazes like a wildfire inside the boundaries of my skin, ravaging and devouring me from the inside out. I have no respite; it consumes every waking thought, staining my vision red. I can't think about Father or Iroh without wanting to destroy something. I feel like I'm burning to death in my own element.

But I like anger. I really do.

It's better than pain.

And pain is what I see in my brother's eyes, especially when he looks at me. He's bearing all our burdens, the martyr that he is (arrogant fool): hurting for what I did to Ursa, and what Father did to me. But I don't care what Iroh thinks, and I don't care about the high ideals he's always trying to make me follow. I don't want his sympathy, and I have no use for his concern. I will not be made to feel guilty, and he can silently suffer all he wants.

I refuse to let anyone comfort or pity me. If I let myself weaken for an instant, I'll drown in self-pity and misery like a sniveling wretch. Heartless and arrogant I may be (or so everyone seems to think), but I will meet whatever befalls with honor and pride, as befits a Fire Prince.

Agni, I hate pity. And I hate my older brother.

-

* * *

-

For two days, Ursa locked herself in her room, refusing to see anyone and barely picking at the meals sent up to her. When her tears had run dry in the garden, she lay as in a faint beneath the plum trees, until her mother, Lady Ri, came out to look for her. Vaguely Ursa remembered the anxious, fluttering attention she received from her mother and the servants, but the young noblewoman had gone numb to the world around her.

Soon afterwards, she thought she'd heard Dai and Ting Yan's voices drifting up from the entrance hall as they inquired after their friend. However, Lady Ri had turned the girls away, doubtless explaining that Ursa needed space to herself at present. (For that, at least, she had room left in her broken heart to be thankful.)

Since that disastrous afternoon, Ursa had spent most of her time in an impenetrable daze. Staring listlessly out the window, she huddled in her reclining chair, clutching a shawl tightly around her shoulders despite the season's warmth. When the haze of shock wore off, she sank into a cold, black depression: Prince Ozai had rejected her. Along with her despair throbbed heartache, sometimes dull, sometimes acute.

In stark contrast to her usual bleak mood, at times a wild, senseless rage woke Ursa from her lethargia. Gentle and complacent, the noblewoman had never thrown tantrums like a spoiled rich girl, but now she wept and screamed and threw her possessions at the wall. Although impervious to reason in this state, she dreaded calming down at the end of her fit. When she began to think clearly again, her usually serene mind would buckle under the weight of awareness. Exhausted, she sank back down into the chair when her anger burned out, and remorse added to to her misery as she surveyed the damage.

Afraid of losing control in these spells of glorious, raging abandonment, instead she deadened her pain in sleep. Like the ominous phantom he sometimes resembled, the prince still haunted her dreams, and Ursa woke up with hot salty droplets searing her cheeks. Sometimes she found herself slipping into recollections of Prince Ozai: a subject now dangerous because so much had changed. Despite the warning screamed by her subconscious, memories of a mysterious amber stare and a subtly bewitching smile would flicker across the noblewoman's battered thoughts, enticing her into a welcome escape from the bleak, unchanging world around her.

All too soon, reality crashed down on her soothing daydream like a cold, dark wave. Then Ursa gasped for air, drowning in Prince Ozai's uncaring disgust as his logical, ruthless words echoed through the silence. Etched sharply and indelibly on her memory, their contemptuous undertone stained the lonely hours with burning shame as well as regret. A week ago, the prince had meant no more to her than any other distant, honored figure in a in a bright and promising universe, but now a beautiful, pitiless sun commanded her life's orbit.

And yet, for a suitor who cared at all for his lady, she could willingly have laid aside her hopes of finding love on her own. Indeed, for Prince Ozai she would have gladly relinquished her old dream—Ting Yan had guessed more truly than anyone realized. Somehow, in those two meetings the prince had won a special place in Ursa's young heart.

Now that heart was splintering into a thousand icy shards, for her real suitor had gained enough power, enough love, to shatter it. Either his feeling toward her had completely altered since the banquet, or the regal kindness had been a captivating lie. After all, she really knew very little of either the prince himself or of the royal court's sophisticated power games, and why should he take interest in a simple, country-dwelling girl whose grandfather had betrayed his?

It didn't matter, anyway; what she had dared to hope for could never be, not now.

Expelling a wistful sigh, Ursa's weary eyelids fluttered closed as a stray tear rolled down her cheek.

-

* * *

-

Today I failed to avoid Iroh, and I'm still smarting (metaphorically, of course).

I was training (yeah, big surprise), and he approached from behind me. By the time I looked up, it was too late to escape.

So instead I asked him in a falsely cheery tone, "Come to spar with me, brother? I was just _hoping_ a partner might turn up. You don't get very far trying to fight against yourself..."

Believe me. I know.

He shook his head, looking troubled (as usual), but also purposeful rather than agonizingly confused (not so usual).

"No. Ozai, we have to talk."

"Fine, then--go ahead and talk. I won't stop you." I went back to my training regime.

"Stop that, and listen," he told me, sounding...if not annoyed, at least insistent. Adding my own display of exasperation, I turned to face him and crossed my arms.

"All right then, let's hear what you've got to say." Iroh took a deep breath, probably collecting his thoughts (and rallying them for battle).

"Listen; it's been two-and-a-half weeks since Father told us about his plans, and you've barely smiled once. I don't like seeing you like this," he added with an apologetic smile of his own—an attempt at one, anyway.

Needless to say, I'm not accepting any apologies just yet.

"What a pity. We all have to endure things we don't like sometimes, don't we?"

As Iroh looked at me, the pain came back to his eyes, but with it a determination to get results in his mother hen act. (He should have learned by now it's useless.)

"You're so unhappy, so angry, all the time—I see it in your eyes—and I wish I knew a way to change that."

If I didn't work hard to keep my voice level, I knew I would start shouting at the top of my lungs.

"Unfortunately, there isn't. Father's word is final, and he's not going to change his mind."

"I realize that, and I know coming to terms with it has been extremely difficult for you. Still, I don't think you're as helpless to change your circumstances as you think you are."

Look at him: so kind and caring, so determined to race to the rescue of his poor little brother. I fought the urge to gag.

Not bothering to reply, I simply waited for whatever tedious, silly strategy Iroh had concocted.

"Before Father decided to make Ursa your bride, you gave her more notice than you have any other young lady, and I know you thought she was something special."

"People change," I said shortly. Never mind that he was prying into my thought life; he does that all the time.

"You've changed a lot in an awfully short time, my brother. Now Ursa's very name seems to disgust you, and you seem more angry than one would expect about a marriage, even an arranged one, to a noblewoman whom you singled out before." As Iroh took a step closer, his eyes seemed to penetrate my armored shell, and I had the illogical suspicion that he could read my thoughts. (At least, I assume it's illogical, and that not even Our Beloved Firstborn can do that.)

Uncomfortably I bristled, and my temper started to flair up again.

"You're saying I chose to be unhappy?"

Although I tried to affect laughing disbelief, the question came out sharper than I intended.

"Yes; it's just like you, Ozai. You can't choose your own princess, and you hate that, so instead you struggle to dislike the one girl you might have happily married." As he stared at me intently, his voice practically throbbed with compassion.

"Crown Prince though you are, you have no power over my internal state of happiness," I reminded him, involuntarily baring my teeth.

"I know that, and I'm not trying to. I'm just worried about my little brother." The half-smile came back, as though he were pleading with me to understand.

Don't you remember, Iroh? I'm "not the understanding type."

Coldly I replied, "I am sorry to have caused you worry. Please, don't concern yourself any more on my account."

Hey, it was worth a shot, and I'm tired of being fussed over.

My brother sighed, and the fire of battle gave way to all those unnecessary burdens once again.

"Father's angry at you," he said quietly.

"Because I don't like my future bride?"

"He doesn't think his decision merits this amount of indignation on your part. He sees it as disrespect, and possibly worse."

If Father sees it as...whatever he sees it as (and who can tell, with him?), I'll have to think about how far I'm willing to go with my little coping plan. Of course, I couldn't let Iroh see my indecision.

"Tell my Lord that I regret his displeasure, but assure him that I will carry out his decree to the letter."

Another insufferable emotion filled my brother's gaze: this time, sadness.

"So you'll obey the word of the law, but not the spirit."

"As you're so fond of saying, 'one cannot force the heart to fall in love,'" I muttered. "Besides, I'm not as 'spirit'-ual as you are."

"Can I teach you?" Now his expression was gentle, and full of compassionate hope.

Something snapped inside me.

Proud and almost defiant, I held my chin high and stared him down.

"Prince Iroh, I require no instruction from you." The hope fading away, he rubbed a hand over his eyes.

"If you won't change your mind for yourself, for me, or even for Father...think about Ursa."

"What about her?"

"Have you heard much about her the past couple of weeks?"

"Not particularly." I figured soon enough I wouldn't be able to escape her, so why hasten my imprisonment?

"Whatever you said to her during your visit, it really affected her. I ran into her father the other day; he told me Ursa will hardly talk to anyone or even eat. She stays in her room all day and won't come out."

Momentarily distracted from my brooding indignation, I was almost impressed. Did I really have that profound an effect on her? Not that it mattered, but did she like me that much?

When I didn't answer, my brother continued, "I know you don't like having to marry her, and I understand that Father and I can't give you much help that you'll accept, but why should Ursa have to suffer as well? Why involve her in our family turmoil?"

Silly Iroh; you really don't know me at all. I'm certainly not going to back down now that my plan is working so well. Because it did, you know; I felt better when you told me about my poor, pining princess. I guess misery really does love company.

A trifle smugly, I pointed out, "Soon Ursa will be joining our family, and besides, I was doing her a favor. It wouldn't do to let her keep believing her marriage will be a happy one, now would it?" For once losing his endless patience, my brother raised his voice in protective ferocity.

"A favor? No, it was cruel, and it was wrong!" Then he appeared to regret his outburst (as well he might), and tried to repair the damage in a quieter tone.

"I think we both know it could be a happy union if you'd stop being so stubborn and _give her a chance_."

In recompense for all the arguments during which he met my burning rage with passive calm, I gazed at him with a deceptive facade of innocence. I stole that expression--it belonged to the wide-eyed young prince who used to be the elder one's shadow (but out of desire, not necessity), because _I want to be just like my big brother when I grow up_.

(You won't fight me? Fine; I won't fight you.)

"Are you commanding me?" I inquired softly.

"No, I'm _asking_ you as a brother. Please, Ozai--stop this." He was begging now, and we reverted to our usual roles.

The illusion shattered; I felt my lips twisting in the familiar, bitter frown.

"Then you know my answer, _brother._" I left him in the arena, alone with his failure to protect my latest victim.

But he wasn't the only one at a loss.

-

* * *

-

One after another, the days stretched out endlessly, all the same, running together like brushstrokes on a wet canvas. Often Lady Ri entered the deathly silent room to check on her daughter, or the servants tiptoed in to bring and take away meal trays or stoke the fire. It didn't matter; Ursa never felt like responding, and indeed she doubted she could any more. Nothing penetrated the constant pain and loneliness that surrounded her now.

Usually she curled up in her reclining chair by the fire like an invalid, wrapped in her favorite delicately woven shawl from the Hai Fen bazaar. Staring into the flames or at a patch of elusive sky beyond the window, the young noblewoman kept her mind blank, deadening the anguish in the only way she knew. If she allowed her mind to wander, it would inevitably stray back to Prince Ozai, and the memory of his alluring, heartless smile would stab her with unrequited agony. When she did glimpse snatches of memory from before his visit, they seemed distant and strange, like reflections on a rippling pond; an unreal fantasy that had no effect on this nightmare fairytale.

Like her future, Ursa's appearance had markedly changed. Eating barely anything and seldom straying from her chamber, she had grown pale and drawn, with dark circles under her eyes. During the day she often slept, and then found herself wakeful and strangely restless at night. At times she wandered the dim corridors of her home like an uneasy ghost, for only in deepest midnight could she bear to venture outside her sheltering prison.

Despite the cost, she couldn't always stop herself from picking at the wound in her memory. As though hungry for reminders of her beautiful tormentor, she would gaze down from a high window at the back garden, where the moon silvered the little plum grove. Now hardly recognizable as the scene of the quarrel that had shattered her, that courtyard reminded her piercingly of another night in another garden. Lashes strangely glittering, she turned from the window and hurried back to her room.

Secluded from the world, Ursa lost track of the grey, changeless days. However, one afternoon (or was it morning?--she couldn't remember), the young noblewoman heard two familiar voices downstairs, and then Lady Ri spoke in reply. When Dai and Ting Yan appeared in her doorway a minute later, Ursa felt only the smallest touch of surprise that her friends had received admittance.

"Didn't my mother tell you I'm indisposed?" she wondered passively.

"Not exactly," Dai told her. "She thinks it would be good for you to have visitors today."

Now that the matter was cleared up, Ursa lost interest; it required too much energy to pursue it further. With no answer forthcoming, Dai boldly entered the room and seated herself on one of two chairs facing Ursa's, which the girls had arranged to accommodate their frequent visits. Following Dai's lead, Ting Yan glanced worriedly at their friend as she took the other chair. Numbly waiting for whatever they wanted to tell her, Ursa couldn't bring herself to care about their uncomfortable expressions.

In an uncharacteristically gentle tone, Dai began, "'I know you've been having a hard time recently, Ursa, and I understand that it can be quite...distressing to have an arranged marriage suddenly dropped on you like that, no matter how much honor the match may bring. "

"It must have been really awful for you, finding out you'd get betrothed right away without having the teensiest idea about it before," Ting Yan speculated in a hushed tone.

"But listen: we can't let you go on like this," Dai went on decisively. "You're wasting away, and we're worried about you. One of the Fire Lord's sons has chosen you—that ought to make you happy. At least, it isn't worth pining over, not like this."

So they didn't know what had really happened, what was slowly killing her from the inside out. Having realized they didn't understand, Ursa found it hard to concentrate on their advice, which seemed like inconsequential babbling. Instead her eyes once more drifted to fireplace, and the the face of a Fire Prince broke through the numbing shell, brutally dominating her thoughts as he had their conversation in those carefree days long ago.

"What are you thinking about?" Ting Yan prompted tentatively when a perplexed Dai fell silent.

In a childlike whisper, Ursa let the thought that had tortured her escape her cold lips.

"Prince Ozai doesn't want me."

"_What?_" Ting Yan gasped in astonishment.

"He said that?" Dai questioned, forgetting her collected mask.

"He won't love me," repeated the future princess, her voice trembling. "His father arranged the marriage, and he doesn't like it."

"Wow, I—Ursa I had no idea," stammered Ting Yan, looking appalled.

While also surprised, Dai appeared to be thinking hard.

"I can see why you're upset, but maybe you can change that."

With wide, haunted eyes, Ursa turned from the fire to her friend.

"How?" she asked in a ghostly, insubstantial tone.

Seeming heartened by Ursa's response, Dai explained, "My mother always says that true love is rare, so it's better not to pin your hopes on finding a soul mate. Still, that doesn't mean you can't have a happy marriage.

"In fact, I'm sure Prince Ozai doesn't dislike you as much as you think he does," she added, furrowing her brow. "It just doesn't make sense. Even so, I have no doubt you can win him back over. After all, you're smart and beautiful, and with a little practice, your feminine charms could surpass Ting Yan's."

Too tired even to think about the ways in which the practical wisdom of Dai's mother had echoed Prince Ozai, Ursa lowered her eyes to wonder if it would be worth giving up her romantic ideals to assuage her suffering. Whatever the case, her friend had brought up a mute point; the prince himself had declared their relationship forfeit, and nothing on earth would persuade him to show mercy.

"It could work, you know," Ting Yan encouraged her in a brave attempt at light-heartedness. "At least it's better than this, right?"

Sighing automatically, Ursa gave her usual reply.

"Perhaps."

"I can see this is a bit much for you to take in," Dai once more quoted Prince Ozai, "so we'll leave and let you think it over. Come on, Ting Yan." While expressed in the political terms that she had been taught to value, genuine concern filled her next words.

"Please do take our advice; I hate to see you make yourself unhappy over such an amazing opportunity."

"I hope you feel better soon, Ursa." Ting Yan trailed her friend out of the room, and softly closed the door behind her.

Left to herself once more, the young noblewoman found her despondency suddenly giving way to urgent, pressured thoughts that made her head spin. Should she follow her friends' advice and salvage what happiness she could, possibly relinquishing dreams of true love forever? Was it even possible to win over her prince, to save the romance that ended before it had begun? Although her new confusion forced her to dwell on these things, Ursa still couldn't think about her future husband without feeling the wound crack open again, and so she dreaded making the decision she must.

All at once the lovelorn princess (_Am I already that?_) couldn't bear it any more; she had to get out of that silent, empty house. Slipping on her shoes, Ursa fumbled briefly with the fastenings, and then crept along the hall, down the stairs, and out through the courtyard without anyone noticing that she left.

-

* * *

-

He's done it again. I--

I can't write any more. It doesn't work. I don't have any words left. I'm so so tired; everything inside has burned out except my anger, and this time I can't drown it in cold black ink.

I have to firebend; there's only so much my secondrate thought-recording solution can do for me. They're using the arena again, but I've realized this book isn't my only alternative.

See you later, non-journal. I'm getting out of here.

-

* * *

-

How long she had wandered through dusty, sunlit streets, Ursa could not tell. At present a brilliant noontide veiled the capitol in a shimmering haze (so perhaps Ting Yan and Dai had visited at morning, after all), and an eerie silence accompanied the distracting glitter of sunshine.

When her aimless wandering abruptly led her around a corner, Ursa realized the public dueling arena lay before her. Although she hesitated, a strange, foreboding curiosity overruled her self-preserving desire to stay away from reminders of the prince. Almost unwillingly she moved closer, and soon detected that someone was training there. With a weight of lead inside her that she did not fully understand, she walked on towards the low wall that surrounded the arena.

It was him. Pain and yearning raked through her like a pantherwolf's claws, heralded by a sharp intake of breath. Perhaps he heard the sound; turning, he noticed Ursa.

"Oh, look: it's the turtleduck girl," he muttered, not bothering to stop his bending. Standing absolutely still, Ursa stared at the prince as he continued training, awaiting and dreading the inevitable.

Again Prince Ozai glanced at her, and this time raised an eyebrow.

"What, have you lost the power of speech? Or maybe you've finally learned not to parade your foolish ideals in front of your prince."

Still frozen with fear, Ursa could produce no reply.

"Well, say something!" the firebender thundered without warning, his flames roaring into a short-lived but furious inferno as he lost patience. "You will show the proper respect to a son of the Fire Lord and your future betrothed."

Horrified, Ursa took a step back, feeling the blood drain from her already moon-pale cheeks.

"I...forgive me, Prince Ozai," she softly gasped.

"I will consider it," he acceded in a low tone, turning his back to her as he executed the next move.

At last Ursa's brain started working again, and her survival instinct kicked into gear. She had to leave, or he'd keep hurting her. Hastily dropping a curtsy, she slipped into the older, more formal—and thus safer—mode of address.

"Good day, Your Highness." Without waiting for further acknowledgment, the noblewoman spun around and fled back down the street. Before she'd gone three paces, however, the prince's voice stopped her.

"Hold it for a sec."

Slowly she turned back around to face him. Tall and imposing as ever, he had ceased training, but his muscular chest still heaved with exertion. As he dryly spoke again, Ursa couldn't tell whether he meant to be sarcastic or not.

"I've got more bad news for my future bride. Father's decided—at my brother's suggestion, of course—that apparently our relationship needs patching up before we tie the knot."

Trying to understand, Ursa tilted her head to one side as she listened.

Whether at her or the news, Prince Ozai sighed in exasperation.

"We're going to Ember Island for the summer."

"Who?" inquired the noblewoman, struggling to process yet another surprise.

"Who do you think?" he returned with a withering look. "You, me, Iroh, Zhao, and a couple of your girlfriends, if you want to bring them along. Father and Brother Dear have decided to show mercy in allowing us each a companion or two, so at least we'll have someone besides each other to associate with."

Before Ursa think of an appropriate response, the prince directed his gaze to a point several inches above her shoulder, his full lips easily curving from a displeased frown to a charming smile. If slightly more forced than his natural smile, it only made him appear regal and proud, as a Fire Prince should.

"Good Day, Lady Ri of Hai Fen Island." At the familiar name, Ursa looked around to see her mother hurrying toward them. After bowing to the prince, Lady Ri worriedly regarded her daughter.

"Ursa, where have you been? You frightened me, wandering off like that." Respectfully she addressed the royal, "Forgive me, lord prince; I hope she has not given you trouble."

"None to speak of," he assured her silkily, his voice full of hidden meaning that only his future betrothed would catch. "I was just telling Ursa of my father's plans for the summer, of which I'm sure he will notify you shortly. He wishes to send us to Ember Island, you see, along with several others."

A study in noble condescension, the prince elaborated, "My father is very concerned about my poor young bride-to-be, and he believes a holiday by the shore may improve her spirits."

"His Lordship is most thoughtful." Despite the newly engraved lines of care on her face, Lady Ri looked pleasantly surprised at his words. Ursa, however, fought down nausea: the prince's expression only mocked the courteous lie she missed so much.

As though to continue the empty facade, her mother expressed her gratitude to the prince as well as his father. "And I am thankful to Your Highness for looking after my daughter. I fear she has not felt well these past few weeks."

Although she spoke without reproach, Ursa recognized a familiar note of inquiry in her mother's voice, such as when she suspected someone had committed a misdeed but didn't wish to make a scene. Like Ting Yan and Dai, her parents likely hadn't realized the full truth, but finding their daughter in the garden after the prince's departure had rather perturbed them. Late at night when they thought she wasn't listening, Ursa had picked up both her own name and Prince Ozai's in her parents' worried whispers.

"But of course; I'll have to get used to taking care of her, after all." the royal affirmed with a quiet laugh and a sideways glance at his princess. A scornful echo of before the visit, it burned her yet again.

Also glancing at Ursa, Lady Ri regretfully told the firebender, "I believe we must return home now, Your Highness. However, please convey our thanks to His Lordship."

"I shall," he replied gravely, "And I am sorry to learn of your daughter's melancholy. I hope I did not contribute to it."

"No, no, of course not," murmured Lady Ri, seeming relieved to know that she would have to contest the word of a prince in order to believe he had played a role in Ursa's depression. Now that Prince Ozai had safely assuaged Lady Ri's concern, he smiled at his princess, eyes glittering coldly with triumph.

Growing faint, the young noblewoman felt tears prick her own eyes, but her mother broke the spell.

"Good day, my lord prince. Come along now, Ursa; time to go home," she instructed in a brisk but gentle tone.

Mutely her daughter obeyed, but couldn't stop herself from looking back just once. The prince had also turned away, but at that moment he too glanced back over his shoulder, his eyes now filled with that secret laughter that cut so deeply.

For her ears alone, he purred, "See you at the beach, turtleduck."

-

* * *

-

A/N: Yay, we're going to Ember Island! Where the "true you" is revealed! I've loved that place since seeing The Beach! (What can I say? it's the home of happy-Zuko-family-ness. -hint hint- lol)

Man, this was depressing to write. I felt so sorry for Ursa, and as usual, it really hit me hard when I was proofreading (which is a good sign, of course ;) ). It was fun writing in Ozai's voice, though; somehow he always brings the irony out of bad situations (like in DOBS, for example--after all, he's being threatened with dual swords by his 'treacherous' son during an eclipse, and he comments on how sweet it is that Iroh can now pass on to Zuko "the ways of tea and failure"--but I'll get back to topic). Oh yeah--I should tell you that my characterization of Ozai has continued to be seriously influenced by "Excerpts from the Diary of Princess Ursa" by Karalora, which you should read if you haven't.

I noticed that Ozai's starting to seem more like how most people see him--that is, purely evil and malicious--but I guess that fits with the story right now. I'll try to explore different parts of all the characters' personalities as I write, and being human, they won't be all good (or all bad). I don't have much else to say, and I can't think of a "question of the chapter," so...no, wait, I got one! Ahem:

Assuming your reaction was similar to mine, what part of the chapter depressed you the most? (lol) For me, I think it's either the first part about Ursa or the beginning of the second part, before Dai and Ting Yan get there (when she wanders through the house like a ghost and all that). Poor thing. But I have to torture them all for the sake of the story (and perhaps I get to make it up to them later ;) ).

I'll try to update before too long, but in the meantime, please review! Also, thanks to everyone who reviewed since my last update. :) I'm happy to get so many hits, but I'd love to get feedback even more.


	5. Sunny Diversion

During the day-and-a-half trip to Ember Island, Ursa would have secluded herself in her cabin if she could have, but it proved difficult to avoid everyone on such a small ship. Although Dai seemed willing to respect her friend's wish for privacy, she couldn't always persuade Ting Yan to do the same. In a probable attempt at damage control, Dai therefore accompanied the lively girl during their visits with Ursa. Now that Ting Yan realized their charming prince's betrayal of the fairytale she had treasured, her chatter detailed his horrible temper and arrogance instead of his alluring mystery. While the unhappy-ever-after princess appreciated her friends' support, she didn't want to hear Prince Ozai vilified; his beauty as well as his cruelty had seared its mark into her heart.

At least she preferred the other girls' company to the one who haunted her mind like a deathly phantom, and she dreaded the shadow he cast over their looming visit to the seashore. In childhood, Ursa's family had spent many happy summers on this island, but she feared the prince would stain her sunlit memories with a tortuous courtship. Admittedly, in some ways the noblewoman looked forward to the change of scene, but she also wished intensely that she could have stayed at home instead of taking a forced holiday. Here, she had no-one to lift her moonless night except her well-meaning but somewhat misguided friends, and associates of her prince.

While Ursa didn't believe the ship held any passengers to whom she could safely unburden herself, she discovered at length that she wasn't quite alone. Sometime during the second day, the future princess ventured out of her room when the silence of her loneliness became too much. On deck, warm ocean breezes tempered the sun's brilliant rays, and she found Prince Iroh sitting at small, lightweight table with pot of tea. Upon noticing her arrival, his face lit up, and he gave her a friendly wave.

"Why hello, my friend! Do sit down. Would you like some tea?"

Whether because of the sunshine or the prince's generosity, the cold, grey weight inside her seemed to lighten a bit. Hesitantly she took the unoccupied chair that for some reason waited opposite Prince Iroh's.

"Um...yes, please; thank you."

"Here you are, then. I hope you like jasmine," he chuckled, handing a cup to Ursa. Taking it, she smiled as one ought to, but didn't possess the mental energy to appreciate jokes very much.

Thoughtfully her companion swirled the liquid in his own teacup.

"I haven't seen you for a while, Ursa. How are you?"

Reluctant to divulge her heartache, the young noblewoman attempted to speak lightly.

"Oh, a little under the weather, I suppose—I thank Your Highness for asking."

"I consider it only right to inquire after the members of my family," Prince Iroh softly affirmed, giving her a smile much warmer than her own.

"That is...most noble of you," she thanked him, choosing her words with difficulty. This time imprisoned by kindness, she again had the impression of a cage closing around her.

Although compassionate, his gaze seemed to penetrate her flimsy defenses, reaching in to understand her pain. Like his brother's eyes, the elder prince's too could appear deep and unreadable, yet now it was compassion that frightened Ursa.

"That has been bothering you, hasn't it?" he asked gently. "The way in which you will soon become part of my family."

Fighting the tears that came so readily at any mention of her future, the pale bride of the phantom begged, "Please—don't concern yourself on my account."

With a glint of humor and a trace of sadness, the prince told her, "I'm afraid you won't get rid of my concern that easy, as my brother could tell you." Then his expression lightened. "But we can certainly discuss something else--our destination, for example. Do you like Ember Island?"

"Yes," answered the noblewoman, relieved to simply make small talk, and surprised she could still behave this normally. "We used to come here during the summers."

"So did my family," revealed the Crown Prince, evidently delighted at their corresponding histories. "What kinds of activities did you enjoy there?"

"Well...I used to love going to see the Ember Island Players," Ursa shyly confessed. Sluggishly her brain was reawakening to the life that existed beyond herself and her enemy-betrothed.

Prince Iroh threw back his head in a pleased laugh.

"I've attended their performances on occasion. Sometimes I found the experience quite amusing, although probably not in the way the actors intended. Which of their plays is your favorite?"

Because the prince made her feel so at ease, Ursa began to speak more boldly than she usually did.

"'Love Among the Dragons'; I know some have the opinion that they don't perform it well, but...I like it."

"It's undeniable that the Players have their own...unique way of performing it (or any play, for that matter)." Glancing at the small water clock on the table, he exclaimed, "Look at the time! I'm afraid there are some...pressing matters I must attend to, but it was a pleasure to converse with you."

"As it was to me," the noblewoman politely responded, a little surprised to find that she could say it truthfully. (It had been so long since anything had given her real pleasure.)

"Come talk with me any time you like," the prince offered graciously, rising to his feet. "And don't worry; I'll ask a crew member to clean up the tea things."

"Thank you, Your Highness," said Ursa as a warmth spread through her that had nothing to do with the hot tea.

"You're quite welcome," he assured her, striding away. "And call me Prince Iroh!"

For a while longer she stayed there, enjoying the sun and temperate breezes. Without the kind-hearted Crown Prince, she still couldn't think very clearly through her dim haze, but at least the throbbing ache had lessened.

-

* * *

-

That's that; we've arrived at the beach now, and we presumably won't get out of here until Ursa and I reach some sort of truce--or appear to, anyway. I'm still not intending to back down, but if I have to publicly give in, I'll keep our...unfriendliness private. Having decided that, I had hoped to no longer find it necessary to write in this book, but my rage hasn't ebbed enough to let me stop. Besides, I may as well continue documenting my thoughts, as it may prove useful in figuring out how to deal with my little problem.

Because, to tell the truth, I've pretty much given up on finding a workable solution.

On the ship coming over, it was a little hard successfully avoiding both my brother and my princess, but I managed. When I asked Iroh how he expected to "hasten his search" for a bride of his own if he were coming with us, he serenely assured me that "everything is under control, so don't you worry, little brother."

Perfect. Now I'm stuck with him.

But char that, and back to work. Most of the time during the trip, I hung out with Zhao, like I usually do. Amazingly, that took my mind off things, for a little while here and there. Although his ego gets in way of his judgment sometimes, and he doesn't always take my "grand visions" seriously, I decided I needed to get another viewpoint on my situation or risk death by angst. So after exacting a promise of secrecy (basically a matter of impressing its importance on him, so he won't let anything slip), I filled him in on my cunning, somewhat useless scheme.

Not surprisingly, Zhao completely misunderstood my point of view, and he asked why in the world I'm trying to make a pretty girl hate me. As usual, however, he also said he'd back me up, even if he didn't see why I felt the need to carry out my plan. I told him that his incomprehension was a pity, but that I realized how rarely the great are understood by the small-minded. In our ensuing friendly argument, I almost felt normal again. With my own sense of sarcasm impaired by this perpetual anger, it pretty much takes an outsider's viewpoint for me to lighten up, and see how ridiculous my predicament is.

Because it is; I recognize that, although I can't change it.

And I was lying when I told Ursa I don't have close friends.

...Moving onward from the mushiness. Despite spending most of my time with Zhao, I can't help noticing who Ursa spends a lot of her time with. Whenever I turn around, she and sometimes those clueless friends of hers are enjoying both Iroh's company and his favorite beverage. It's like living with a perpetual tea party. My brother even has a silly nickname for the girls; he calls them his "three lovely fire spirits."

Blazing Comet!--does he have to be such a flirt?

As far as I can tell, it's innocent enough; it sounds like they mostly discuss Iroh's dull hobbies like poetry and plays, but I don't like the way Ursa looks at my brother. While all of them act like he's some kind of fire god (like the rest of our nation, admittedly), her eyes especially light up when he's around. I suppose I shouldn't care; I mean, he does keep Ursa away from me. Still, I don't like it; seeing them so happily engrossed makes me think they're plotting against me.

Argh. I'm getting too paranoid. Next thing you know, I'll be stealing thrones and banishing people (it wouldn't surprise anyone, coming from the secondborn prince). Ha ha.

Yeah, I know that wasn't funny.

-

* * *

-

When at last their vessel docked at Ember Island, the bustle of settling into the royal beach house filled the atmosphere. The palace servants that had come before them rushed here and there to finish preparing the Fire Lord's summer home for their arrival. While Ursa didn't relish the prospect of sharing the same dwelling place with everyone else, only members of the royal household had been charged with serving them here, so she had no choice. Nonetheless, the noblewoman supposed she ought to should be grateful that the girls had an entire wing to themselves, opposite the wing where Zhao and the Fire Lord's sons would be rooming. Still, it didn't help that she suspected this had stemmed from Prince Ozai's desire to keep as far away from her as possible (but then, perhaps also to the kindness of Prince Iroh, she mentally added).

Although Ursa and her friends gave ample use to their spacious, elegant chambers and sitting rooms (about which Ting Yan was ecstatic), Ursa's need for solitude lessened. As frequently as they could, the three young noblewomen sought out the elder prince's company; more often than not, he proved his skill in making "the best tea, like, ever," but sometimes they simply conversed. When Prince Iroh graced them with his warm, benign presence, he eased the awkwardness inevitably raised between the girls by such a delicate subject as his younger brother. However, the Crown Prince frequently disappeared into his own rooms, regretfully (and cryptically) explaining that he must attend to "pressing matters."

Despite their limited time with him, Prince Iroh's gentleness slowly persuaded Ursa's frozen heart to continue beating, and gradually she remembered how to laugh. As he coaxed her out of the darkness, the noblewoman found herself growing more eager to spend time with her friends even in the royal's absence. Thus Ursa, Dai, and Ting Yan began attacking the local shops and marketplace, perusing exotic souvenirs or commenting on the latest fashions.

During the first week of their visit, a fragile shell of contentment formed to shield her from reality, but Ursa knew she couldn't risk upsetting that precarious balance. In the house and on the beach, she kept as far away from her prince as she could (which he thankfully made easy). Although she couldn't completely banish him from her thoughts, the future princess was willing to accept whatever shreds of happiness the spirits bestowed. Indeed, she almost forgot about her melancholy, and the perfect, shadowy face behind it.

Almost, but not quite.

-

* * *

-

I wish Zhao would hurry up and get his mandatory letter written; I'm ready to play some fireball down at the beach. And the longer we hang around here, the greater the chance that _she_ comes back...and probably starts talking with Iroh...

I can't figure it out: why am I so possessive of her?

But I'm deviating from my original purpose in putting pen to paper, so here it is. Zhao's being forced to write to Mother Dear, so I thought I'd note down our conversation just now.

We were sparring in the front courtyard--so what else is new?--but not very aggressively, so we could talk while we fought. (If only every conversation could involve a bending battle!)

Dodging a fiery kick from me, Zhao inquired, "How's your lovely unwanted princess today?"

If anyone else had asked me that, I would have made sure my next kick didn't miss; however, considering who it was, I merely snorted.

"I don't know; I haven't seen her much lately. She's probably off hitting bazaars with her annoying girlfriends."

"That's a good thing, right? I mean, at least you can stay away from her," he helpfully reminded me, paradoxically almost catching my topknot on fire.

Returning the favor, I agreed, "I may as well avoid her as long as I can."

As he ducked out of the way, Zhao carefully suggested, "If you want my personal opinion—which you probably don't, but you're getting it anyway—I still don't know what your problem is, exactly. She's stunning, after all..."

I rolled my eyes—no small feat while executing a flying serpent lunge.

"Zhao, that's beside the point. Regardless of how beautiful she is, I have to--"

"I know, I know--you must 'retain your personal freedom in whatever way you can, or die trying,'" he quoted (well, paraphrased) in a somber, stuffy tone that sounded nothing whatsoever like me (although it strangely resembled my father). Frankly, I'm surprised he impersonated me even that well in the midst of expanding the flames I'd sent him into a firewall--and returning them to me.

Bestowing on him my famous disapproving frown (and parting the inferno around me so he could see it), I posed a rhetorical question.

"Have you no respect for matters of principle?"

"Not when they involve purposefully ruining your chances with a breathtaking young lady," he told me with a blazing punch and the dauntless self-assurance that one should expect when allowing a subordinate so much free reign. (Both the punch and the confidence missed their aim, by the way.) "Speaking of principles, has our friend the idealist gotten to you recently about trying not to be a jerk?"

"No, because so far I haven't let him get a chance to. It hasn't been that hard, actually; he's kept busy with his mysterious Crown Prince duties, not to mention all those tea parties with Ursa and the others." Evidently I didn't hide my discontent very well (not that it matters that much with Zhao, but still). He stopped bending to look at me in surprise, and paid for it when a fireblast nearly singed off one of those "sideburns" he's so proud of.

"Hey, you don't really think Iroh's going to steal her, do you?"

"I should hope not," I returned dryly, "but I haven't exactly given Ursa cause to like me, and my brother's getting desperate to 'save' her."

"That is a side effect of trying to estrange yourself from your future wife," Zhao pointed out mildly, running a hand along his chin as though to make sure I hadn't robbed him of that pitiful fuzz. "Still, considering Iroh's standards of honor, I'm pretty sure your girlfriend's safe from him."

Girlfriend?!?

I let that one slide.

While I had no desire to embarrass myself by making ludicrous-sounding accusations, neither could I let Zhao get the impression that my concern had no basis other than paranoia. (If I can't convince myself, maybe I can convince him.)

"You're probably right, but the fact remains that my brother doesn't always think laws are the only right way." At that point I started vehemently playing Shoot-the-Zhao with a series of fast punches (okay, so maybe I hadn't entirely "let it slide").

"Whoa, are you accusing the Crown Prince of treason?" he asked me, jumping out of the way.

Although he was only half-serious, I didn't find the joke remotely funny.

"I'm doing no such thing," I snapped at him, irritated enough that I didn't appreciate the humor even when he flitted around the courtyard like a deranged monkeysquirrel in an attempt to avoid my onslaught.

Too accustomed to my temper (and my bending) for either to ruffle him, Zhao rather breathlessly speculated, "Then it sounds to me like you're jealous that Ursa prefers someone else's company to yours, in which case your plan is failing."

_Must_ you remind me of that possibility?

I gave him my best hearty, derisive laugh.

"Why in the world would I be jealous of that? And my plan is working perfectly well, I'll have you know."

Like a true friend, Zhao took advantage of my laughter to perform a showy spin on his hands while he kicked more fire at me.

"Nice try, my hot-tempered prince," he said as soon as he had breath to spare, "but remember that I'm aware of your skills in deception."

"Lucky you." Deciding to end the conversation (and punish Zhao for seeing through my "clever" lie), I suddenly attacked with a bigger fireball than before, and pushed him to the ground with my foot when he stumbled backwards to avoid the flames.

"I win." Giving him a hand up, I paused to listen as the high-pitched, musical lilt of female conversation floated up from the street below. "Listen, do you want to hit the beach? I think I might hear the girls coming back."

"Whatever you say, Shu," Zhao conceded with that broad grin he gets whenever he's unrepentantly annoying me (probably somewhat resembling myself in "evil little brother" mode, I must admit). "Let's ward off Oma some more. Or...maybe in a bit," he amended, looking uncomfortable. "I have to do something first."

I regarded him imperiously, obviously not amused by his reference to the Earth Kingdom love story.

"Oh?"

Nervously rubbing the back of his neck, Zhao confessed, "Yeah, um... My mom kind of made writing to her a condition for coming here—and if I don't, believe me: she'll keep bugging your dad till he sends me back."

"Go on, then; prevent your mother from defying the Fire Lord before his fury descends on the poor woman," I grudgingly relented.

I'll stop this now; he just appeared in my doorway and says he's finally ready.

Zhao, that is—not my father.

Sure, go ahead and laugh all you want.

-

* * *

-

As it turned out, "Oma" and her friends were still perusing the marketplace, where Ting Yan had dragged them over to a stall full of brightly colored but apparently useless curios.

"Ooh, look at this one; it's so pretty," Ting Yan breathed, admiring a square-inch mass of glittering beads that didn't advertise their purpose very well, if one existed at all.

"But look at the price," Dai countered. "If I wanted a gaudy decoration, I wouldn't pay six silver pieces for it."

"Oh, wow, that is a lot. Okay, let's look over there!"

Once again following her lead, the other two switched their attention to a display of undoubtedly more useful shawls.

"Ursa, is there anything you especially like?" queried Ting Yan hopefully.

"This pattern of birds and fruit trees is lovely, but I'm not sure; I already have a similar shawl at home." As she did any reminder of those terrible weeks between the prince's visit and their departure, the noblewoman shut out memories of that shawl's latest use.

"If that shawl pleases you, miss, perhaps you'd like these," suggested the grandmotherly woman selling them. After admiring the proffered wares for a moment, Ursa abruptly realized the "girl time" mood had deserted her.

"Thank you, but I think I've had enough shopping for one day."

"Oh, no--what's wrong?" anxiously questioned Ting Yan, to whom a disinterest in acquiring merchandise denoted grave emotional imbalance.

"I... It's just..." Not eager to discuss it, she trailed off.

"What do you think it is, Ting Yan?" Dai reminded her impatiently.

Understanding dawned, followed by remorse.

"Sorry, Ursa; I can see why you maybe wouldn't feel like shopping."

Before she could assure Ting Yan that everything was all right (when in fact nothing could be further from the truth--although that wasn't her friend's fault), Dai lightened the mood in her businesslike manner.

"You know what? I'm hungry; let's buy some hot pastries at that stall across the street, and then we can decide what to do next."

As the seller bade them, "Come again soon," the girls left to purchase their lunch, and sat on the low wall surrounding a fountain to eat it.

While they savored the warm, flaky treats, Ting Yan seemed unusually thoughtful.

"I don't get it; I mean, it's weird that Prince Ozai would suddenly be so mean to Ursa. I thought he liked her before."

"That's what we've been wondering along," Dai concurred. "It doesn't make sense to me, but royals are hard to understand sometimes."

"Still, being royalty doesn't give him a right to treat people like dust, even if he is a prince," Ting Yan asserted, looking troubled.

"Being royalty, he does have that right," Ursa said quietly, holding together the pieces of her heart by sheer willpower. "Dai's right, Ting Yan; none of us like it, but that won't change anything." As long as they avoided the subject, the future princess could manage to feel relatively cheerful, but any mention of her almost-betrothed reminded her into what sharp, tiny fragments she had shattered.

"I admire your strength," Dai confessed. "I can't imagine how hard it is to accept this extent of scorn and enmity from the man you must marry, no matter how high-ranking he is."

Both looked at her in surprise.

A bit guiltily, Dai studied her hands.

"I know I speak always of political gain, and I do not question its importance, but I would never want this for myself."

"Don't be ashamed," Ursa pardoned her softly but firmly."I would not want this for anyone. I'll just have to...somehow endure what the spirits bestowed on me."

Dai glanced up, with a hint of a smile in thanks.

Ting Yan agreed, "I admire you too, Ursa. But Dai, I don't think you're bad for wishing that. I'd be absolutely _heartbroken_ if it happened to me."

Ruefully Dai observed, "I suppose we all must deal with heartbreak somehow. But since we're done eating, do you want to look some more at those shawls?"

"Actually, I'd like to go to the beach and...think for a little while," said the princess-to-be, "but you two go ahead."

"All right; have fun, Ursa," Ting Yan bade her in an unnaturally cheery tone.

Seeing through her brave attempt not to mind when their friend ceased shopping, Dai suggested, "Maybe we can come again sometime, so you can look at them too."

Although she appreciated their efforts to lighten her mood, Ursa didn't know when her sunny illusion would again divert her from reality. Nonetheless, it would probably behoove her to salvage what she could from life.

"I'd like that." Dredging up a smile for her friends, the young noblewoman tried to make it as real as she could.

-

* * *

-

In lonely splendor, the breakers crashed and foamed, ebbing back in a sparkling blue expanse toward the vague, misty horizon. A little way down the shore, Zhao and Prince Ozai had started a game of fireball with the other teenagers, but the shouts and noises of impact couldn't really touch Ursa. Sitting on a large piece of driftwood, she gazed out to sea, losing herself in the restless lullaby of the waves.

Gradually it dawned on her blank, serene mind that she wasn't completely alone. Appearing lost in contemplation himself, a young man was strolling along the beach toward her, occasionally pausing to look out towards the horizon. When his meandering footsteps approached her sitting place, the newcomer gave her a smile that, while less open than Prince Iroh's, still seemed pleasant enough.

"Hello," he greeted her, inclining his head politely.

Tucking a stray lock behind her ear, Ursa smiled shyly back.

"Hello."

"Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all." Intrigued by this stranger, the noblewoman discovered she liked him already. Sitting down beside her, the boy introduced himself.

"I'm Piandao, by the way. And you?"

"Ursa," she told him.

"Nice to meet you, Ursa. Do you like the sea?"

"Oh, yes," she replied, beginning to feel slightly more alive. "It's so...wild, and mysterious."

"That's what I love about the ocean, too. Watching the waves helps me think."

Delighted to find a kindred spirit, Ursa asked him, "Do you come here every summer?"

"Yes, for a few weeks; it gives me a nice break from training."

"Training?"

"I'm studying the way of the sword," he explained. "I hope to be a master someday."

"How interesting! I'd love to see you practice some time."

"I'm not that good," said Piandao, not as though he meant to be modest, but as though he were simply admitting the truth. "It is my passion, though--but tell me what you like to do."

Contemplating his request, she answered, "Well, I like to read poetry, and I do a little painting."

"I love poetry, too!" he exclaimed, more animated than she'd seen him yet. "What do you paint?"

"Mostly sunsets and cherry blossoms, and so forth. I'm not very good at doing people," she added with a self-conscious laugh. Distantly she heard the fireball game breaking up, the players calling goodbyes—but she paid it no heed.

"People are hard." At her confusion, he sheepishly clarified, "I've been learning to paint, too--landscape painting, because it trains me take in a whole scene at once. I'll have to do that on the battlefield. My brushwork still needs a lot of work, though."

Amazed by her new acquaintance, Ursa commented, "You study swordsmanship, read poetry, paint landscapes—what else do you do?"

"Let's see. I'm learning calligraphy and rock garden arranging, though not very well... Other than that, I don't do much, except bore attractive young maidens with talk of my hobbies."

Ursa laughed, a real one this time—but her laughter died as a dark shadow fell across her. Recognizing that silhouette, she turned as in a slow-moving nightmare to see Prince Ozai standing next to them.

Although his future bride expected him, as usual, to direct his anger at her, the prince was looking at Piandao instead.

"Are you flirting with my girl?" he inquired with just enough threat to sound dangerous.

In a show of backing down, Piandao raised his hands in surrender.

"Look, man, I didn't know she was taken."

"In that case, she really should have told you," said Prince Ozai, sparing a critical glance for his princess just long enough to make her squirm. "But then, I suppose such negligence to be expected from the Avatar's grand-daughter."

Impressed, the apprentice swordsman looked at her.

"You're descended from Avatar Roku?"

As Ursa opened her mouth to reply, the prince interrupted.

"...And I am descended from Fire Lord Sozin, so be mindful of your behavior around me."

"I will, Your Highness." While obviously surprised, Piandao answered seriously, and impressed the noblewoman in turn with how coolly he handled the situation. "But before I go, let me congratulate you; this is one talented young lady."

As Ursa blushed, the prince replied, "Be that as it may, I'll keep her talents to myself." When he looked at her once more beneath his lashes, his face unreadable, the sibilant undertone stained her cheeks a deeper red; he made his princess feel like a possession to be hoarded.

Respectful but still determined, Piandao broke the tension.

"Listen, I know she's yours, but I'd be...honored if my lord prince would allow me to converse with as well as serve his lady."

Either pained or disgusted (or both), Prince Ozai gazed down his long nose at the shorter boy.

"Who are you?" Although he didn't continue with, "And why should I care?" the meaning was clear.

"Piandao of the Hua family, swordsman-in-training," he answered in a reserved but peaceable tone.

"As long as conversation is all that passes between you, I will not immediately disregard your request—but don't forget she's mine," he finished grimly.

"Hey, I'm only saying that your girl is really..." As though searching for words, he looked at Ursa. "...amazing—and I'd be terribly sorry for her prince not to realize that," he added a little more pointedly.

His exasperation hardening into scornful displeasure, Prince Ozai tersely ordered, "Get out of here. And if you want to talk to Ursa, you might consider not telling a son of the Fire Lord how to treat his princess."

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to be disrespectful." Turning to the noblewoman, he continued, "Maybe we can do this again some time--"

"I said _get out_."

Quickly bowing to the stony-faced prince in concession, Piandao met Ursa's eyes as though to reassure her that he wasn't really giving up. Then he calmly returned the way he had come, seeming untroubled by the unpleasant scene he'd just experienced.

Ursa, on other hand, could hardly contain her embarrassment and indignation.

"May I inquire, _lord prince_, why you saw fit to end our conversation so abruptly?"

He shrugged as though the matter were beneath him.

"Simple; I heard another guy evidently flirting with you, so I reminded him of his place."

"But...we were only talking, as friends!" the noblewoman protested, fury robbing her of eloquence. "He wasn't _flirting_ with me! What did you think would happen?"

Matter-of-factly he informed her, "I don't know, but I wasn't about to find out. I will not be cuckolded, Ursa."

"'Cuckolded'?" she repeated, not knowing whether to scream or burst out laughing. How had he jumped to the conclusion that she planned to break her marriage vows? "Do you not trust me? Is my honor so worthless to you?"

Although mostly expressionless, Prince Ozai raised his eyebrows at Ursa as though he found her protests tiresome.

"Suffice it to say, I'm not taking chances. For all I know, you might still be looking for love or some such foolishness, since you won't find it from me."

Fuming, the noblewoman stood up.

"Unless _Your Highness_ deems it too great a risk, I believe I shall return to the house now."

Without a backward glance (or an answer from the prince), she stormed off.

-

* * *

-

When she returned, Ursa found her two friends occupying a small sitting room in the common part of the beach house, where they were busily discussing their newly acquired merchandise (even Dai looked unusually excited about the subject).

"Oh, hello, Ursa!" the resident shopping master happily greeted her. "Come see what we bought!"

"Yes, Ting Yan helped me pick out—spirits, Ursa, what's wrong?"

"Prince Ozai," she told them darkly. From the knowing look the other two shared, it was obvious they needed no elaboration, but Ting Yan asked for it anyway.

"What happened?"

Angrily she gazed out the window. "I was on the beach just now, and I met a boy named Piandao; he seemed really nice, and I enjoyed talking to him."

"That's great, Ursa!--but...what does it have to do with Prince Ozai?"

"I'm guessing you also met him," Dai observed shrewdly.

"Yes," she affirmed through gritted teeth. "And he acted like I was betraying him by talking to any other guy. He even accused me of...being unfaithful!"

"That's awful!" Ting Yan sympathized. "Why would he act that way?"

"He's jealous," Dai stated calmly.

Once again, the other two stared at her in surprise.

"It makes sense now," she elaborated. "I'm not saying he should have treated you like that, even if he is royalty, but I can see why he might have."

"I guess that could explain why he said those things to me, but I don't see how you can defend him. He's so...cruel!" As her pain started to resurface through the indignation, the noblewoman's voice rose.

"Yeah, you should think about poor Ursa," Ting Yan reproached.

Seeming frustrated, Dai insisted, "I'm not defending him; I'm just trying to be logical, and look at this matter objectively. If it hadn't been hammered into my brain how important politics are for people of our social class, I could be just as upset and disorganized as you two are, but that won't solve anything." Looking at Ursa, she added, "No offense, but I'm trying to help."

"I know you are," the future princess sighed. "It's just...hard to keep myself under control, sometimes, what with everything being how it is."

However, all was not quite well with their other friend.

"Hey, I'm not illogical and disorganized, am I?" Uncomfortably Dai and Ursa exchanged a questioning glance, each wondering how to respond truthfully.

Massaging her temples, Dai searched for a diplomatic reply.

"Ting Yan, your constant cheer is very...refreshing, and I have no doubt it will help you in winning suitors, but if you didn't have me around to look after you, I can't rule out the possibility that you'd end up in the circus (or someplace equally frivolous). And I'm sorry, Ursa, but the same pretty much goes for you--except that you'd be more likely to become a wandering minstrel than a circus performer."

Taken aback, Ursa and Ting Yan glanced at each other, then the latter threw her arms around a startled Dai.

"You're wonderful—don't ever change. And don't worry: Ursa and I will make sure to tell your suitors you're not as boring as you seem."

"Um, thank you, Ting Yan." Although bemused, she allowed herself a small smile, as though recognizing the humor in their situation.

"What's all this laughter I hear?" inquired a friendly voice. Looked up, they saw Prince Iroh standing in the doorway.

"Come in, Your Highness," Dai invited him, seeming almost to light up. Since the beginning of their trip, Ursa had not been the only one whom the prince had coaxed out of her shell, nor had he won a place solely in her heart.

"Splendid; I was just looking for three lovely fire spirits with whom to share a pot of spiced chamomile." Turning to someone they couldn't see, he gave a quiet instruction. A servant came in carrying a tea tray, set it on the low table in the center of the room, and bowed himself out.

After nodding to the server in thanks, the royal poured them each a cup of tea, asking, "And how many times must I ask you to call me Prince Iroh?"

"Many more, I'm afraid." Although Dai lowered her eyes demurely, a smile still played about her lips. "My parents would simply murder me if I failed address you properly."

"Ah, well," he acceded, looking resigned. "Tell me though, won't you: what have you three been up to today?"

"We took Ursa to the market," said Ting Yan enthusiastically.

"Is that so? I love perusing the stalls. Did you happen to find anything interesting?" Although he was famous for it, his eccentric love for shopping seemed out of place in the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation (well, at least to Ursa and Dai).

"Yep, we did!" agreed Ting Yan, proudly displaying her shawl of embroidered golden sunflowers on forest green, with a vivid orange hair ribbon to match. "And these only cost seven silver pieces—total!"

"It sounds like you found a great bargain," sagely observed the prince.

"So did Dai; tell him what you got."

As the quiet girl held up a deep blue shawl woven with silver dolphinwhales, Prince Iroh exclaimed, "Beautiful! It suits you very well. But what did you find, Ursa?"

Having slipped into brooding reverie as she waited for her tea to cool, the noblewoman started.

"Oh--nothing, actually. I left early to go down to the beach."

"I always enjoy the seashore," the prince commented. "Did you do anything in particular while you were there?"

"Well, I...mostly watched the waves," she replied evasively.

"And that wasn't all," Ting Yan put in. "Tell him about the new friend you met!"

"His name is Piandao," said Ursa, relieved that no-one brought up the other young man she had run into. "He's a master swordsman in training. It was quite pleasant talking to him; we appear to have much common."

"Do you know him, sir?" queried Dai.

"Not well, but I've heard he's quite good with a sword (although he would never would tell you so)," answered Prince Iroh, thoughtfully sipping his tea. "I'm glad you got to know him; I've always believed that watching the sea with a fascinating stranger is one of life's true delights."

"It certainly was today," agreed Ursa, her mouth tightening as she recalled the less-than-delightful part of their conversation.

Concerned, the prince looked at them inquiringly.

"Piandao wasn't the only guy there..." Ting Yan revealed tentatively.

"His Highness your brother joined their conversation, and he conducted himself as regally as ever," Dai clarified a touch more frostily than usual.

"I see," the royal said heavily. "I am sorry to hear that. But whatever happened, I want you to remember that his words do not have to sully you, Ursa." Because of his compassion, the noblewoman felt her lower lip starting to tremble involuntarily.

Dashing salt droplets from her eyes, she tried to veil her distress with anger. "He said I would probably be unfaithful to him, just because I wish for love in my marriage. It seems like he's jealous of every conversation I have with other young men, though he won't talk to me himself."

Appearing to carry his own burden, Prince Iroh set down his teacup and admitted softly, "My brother is misguided, and he has much to be jealous of."

"You think I do?"

For the second time that day, Ursa turned in shock (along with everyone else) to see that Prince Ozai had joined them unexpectedly. By he now had washed and dressed, but the noblewoman thought she detected a subtly unbalanced agitation lingering about him, for all his princely attire.

"What did you hear?" asked his brother evenly.

"Enough," the younger prince told him, frowning sternly. "And it makes me curious why you're discussing me behind my back."

"We are not slandering you," Prince Iroh attested in a reasonable tone. "The girls were just telling me about their day. "

"And now it's Ursa's turn to talk to me." Glaring at her, he ordered, "I want to see you in the back garden, right now."

As three voices started to protest in Ursa's defense, she rose from the table.

"Very well; I'll come." Knowing Prince Ozai's love for irony, she vaguely wondered if he had chosen their meeting place on purpose; for them, it was always gardens.

"Ursa, you don't have to--" the elder prince began.

"Don't interfere, brother!" the younger barked.

Desiring to end the disharmony, Ursa took a deep breath.

"Please, everyone; let me do this. As Prince Ozai's...bride-to-be, his displeasure is my concern, so I have to work this out."

"That's right, kids; let mom and dad have a little chat by themselves," dryly agreed her prince.

Following Prince Iroh's lead, the other two gave in, and Ursa followed as the younger prince led her to the door.

"We'll be right here if you need us," Ting Yan called after her friend.

"Yeah, because I'll totally assault her," remarked Prince Ozai sardonically.

Subdued, Ting Yan blushed, but the Crown Prince gave her a sympathetic glance.

Then Ursa's three allies were hidden from view as she exited the room, and all she had left was her enigmatic phantom.

When they arrived at the garden behind the house, her companion didn't speak right away. Instead he stood with his back to her, appearing deep in thought as he surveyed the wide, distant hills rising beyond the courtyard wall--but his stiff, erect posture betrayed the tension that would surely erupt forth.

Not particularly eager to initiate the discussion, Ursa waited.

When the silence continued to stretch out, however, she decided to break it.

"Prince Ozai?"

In quiet anger, he replied, "I've had enough of this."

She blinked.

"Beg pardon?"

"You talk constantly to my brother..."

"Because I enjoy having a normal conversation with a prince--"

"...you carelessly flirt with new acquaintances--"

"Piandao and I were _not--_"

"...and now I find you discussing my faults behind my back."

"No, Prince Iroh told you we--"

"I refuse to overlook it any more; this isn't what I expect of my princess."

"May I inquire what you do expect?" she demanded, her own temper rising. "You don't love me, anyway, so I'm afraid I fail to see what the point is." Because he still hadn't deigned to look at her, Ursa received a stronger impression than usual that her arguments were falling on deaf ears.

"'The point?'" he repeated in disbelief. "The point, as in everything, is our utmost honor and loyalty to our nation and our Lord: something I wouldn't expect a traitor's granddaughter to understand. However, the fact that I consider love a foolish distraction does not give you the right to look for it elsewhere."

"I am not looking for it elsewhere," she maintained, torn between exasperation and hurt. "But even so...your idea of marriage doesn't make sense to me."

"Why am I not surprised?" Prince Ozai muttered under his breath.

Frustrated, Ursa pressed her lips together and looked away.

"Your brother thinks love is important."

"Are you saying I'm not as good as Iroh?" he questioned sharply, spinning around to affix her with a ferocious stare.

"Maybe I am!" she asserted, throwing caution to the winds. "At least he cares about people!" No longer willing to suffer in silence, Ursa realized she wouldn't mind hitting a nerve or two of the prince's for a change.

"Well then, maybe you'd rather marry him instead," he suggested acidly. "It would explain why the two of you are practically inseparable."

"I talk to Prince Iroh because you either ignore me or insult me. He's...like a brother to me," she finished, not bothering to keep the accusation out of her tone.

With knowing irony, Prince Ozai refuted her comparison.

"And brothers always get along perfectly."

"What's the matter with you?" cried Ursa, feeling despite their eye contact that she was screaming at a stone fortress. "Why don't you care about love?"

Although she expected wrath, he looked at her in apparent surprise.

"As I said, it only gets in the way of duty and honor, and besides..." Thinly veiled as concern, a note of scathing pity crept into his voice. "...people get hurt when they let their emotions become tangled up in things, and a broken heart creates a useless subject."

Ursa wished she could ignore the taunting insinuation.

"So...you believe we should all objectively perform our duties, with no thought for anything else?"

Assuming his regal magnetism, the prince enlightened her with grave sincerity.

"We strive, here in the Fire Nation, to become strong and perfect, so that no need will remain for weakness such as love and mercy."

"But it sounds so...joyless," she softly protested, fighting down panic at the prospect of such a robotic future.

He gave a mirthless laugh.

"Welcome to my world."

As his words struck her with a pang of terror, Ursa shook her head as though to chase away the bleak vision before her.

"No, no. I won't become a tool in your cold ideals."

"You don't have a choice. There's nothing either of us can do." Voice still hard, he appeared to find a dark, ruthless glory in their mutual despair. Then he gave a wry half-grin.

"But I do find it interesting that you think me an idealist. Usually it's my brother who earns that name..."

Although could feel herself beginning to shatter again, she had to find out one answer.

"If you really don't care about me at all, then please--at least tell me this."

Trapping her in a golden gaze, he waited.

"Why were you so kind to me, that night at the banquet?"

Appearing to lose interest, the prince turned away from her.

"I lied."

"But why?" she entreated, unable to manage much above a pitiful whisper.

"To break the monotony in my gilded cage," he explained in a smooth, oiled cadence--but his eyes betrayed a mad and almost reckless glint, as though he simply didn't care any more.

Had he only regarded her as a shiny new plaything?

Her eyes strangely stung and blurred.

"You're cruel, Prince Ozai."

"I know," he avouched huskily, his mouth curving upward in detached fascination. Seeming immune to human feeling as he smirked in victory, the prince reminded Ursa of a young boy who torments a small creature in heartless innocence, just to see what will happen.

Arching an eyebrow at her, the royal shadow inquired in mock courtesy, "Is it your turn to abandon me in the garden, or shall I leave you instead?"

Wordlessly she nodded, voice stolen by horror; she could sense the black wave ready to crash down on her again, and it terrified her.

"My thanks, turtleduck," Prince Ozai murmured as he swept past her.

Despite the paralyzing memory of their last argument in a garden, this time Ursa did not collapse sobbing when he left the flowering courtyard. Struggling to hold herself together, she returned to the house.

"Prince Iroh? Are you still there?"

-

* * *

-

A/N: What will happen when she talks to Prince Iroh? Will things change between Ursa and Prince Ozai? To find out, tune in next time! (And hopefully review, although I thank all who did this time...) Wow, this was 19 pages on my microsoft-word-equivalent program, and I wrote it in a little over a week. I guess that means I don't have to worry about writing possible future ten page papers in two or three weeks.

Don't ask me what a "flying serpent lunge" is; I just thought it sounded cool, and I needed to come up with an official sounding move (yes, i made it up). I can sympathize with any who want Prince Ozai to demonstrate it, tho...preferably shirtless... lol Speaking of whom, he just gets worse and worse, doesn't he? There were some hints in this part as to where the story's going next, but also some false leads, so i can't tell you very much. I can, however, explain that to "cuckold" someone means for the wife (not the husband, as far as i know) to commit adultery. I know it's a little strange that Ozai jumped to that conclusion, but he himself wondered why he was getting so possessive of her. And now, I'll leave you to wonder as well. ;)

I enjoyed bringing Dai out of her shell a little, and I'm really appreciating Iroh. As always, Ting Yan amused me, and it was fun writing young Piandao. Poor Ursa... I have to keep torturing her. I'm getting a little tired of all the arguments, tho...but i mustn't give anything away. I will say that one of my favorite bits in terms of humor was when poor Zhao was compared to a "deranged monkeysquirrel." lol I literally collapsed laughing when i thought of that... And that whole scene was fun to write.

Oh--question of the chapter. Who did you think he was, before we found out he was Piandao? (If you had any suspicions, that is.)

I hope you enjoyed, and please review!


	6. Perilous Enchantment

A/N: Let me just warn you: this chapter does get a little more mature in parts of it. A lot of what I mean is references to situations in which Ursa and Ozai might find themselves (in connection with being expected to "produce heirs"), and there's nothing explicit, but I felt safest letting you know. Most of it is in the second part from Ursa's viewpoint, and the third journal part, but I think it's all still T-rated. (Perhaps I'm being overly cautious, but if anyone thinks otherwise, please let me know.)

With that said, I'll tell you I've been looking forward for a while (in a slightly evil way) to writing that second scene from Ursa's point of view (though the rest of it was enjoyable to write as well), so anyway: please enjoy!

-

* * *

-

At Ursa's soft inquiry, Prince Iroh glanced quickly up at her. Then his brows drew together in concentration.

"Dai and Ting Yan, why don't you pour yourselves another cup of tea?" he suggested mildly. "I'd like to talk a walk with our friend." Readily the other two complied—but Ursa's sudden courage almost failed her as they left through a side door.

"Prince Iroh—I'm...sorry to pull you away, if you have duties."

With an airy wave of his hand, the prince replied firmly, "It's no trouble at all. Duties can wait, and this is more important."

So she followed him into the semi-wilderness, where a weatherbeaten stone path wound among the rolling hills beyond the garden wall. Dropped like jewels all around them, wildflowers decorated the green meadows, between low shrubs and occasional trees like sentinels.

"Now, Ursa, will you tell me what your trouble is?" Although calm as ever, the prince appeared less light-hearted than usual; it seemed to his companion that he was beginning to let slip the delighted optimism that mercifully veiled both his majesty as Crown Prince, and the true power of his burning, fierce compassion.

When the noblewoman hesitated, shy to reveal her distress to Lord Azulon's firstborn, the latter speculated, "It has do to with what my brother said to you, doesn't it?"

Throat tightening, she nodded, careful not to let her emotions take control. Seeming weighed down by regret and sympathy, Prince Iroh let a heavy sigh escape.

"I see. Come here, then, and sit beside me." He led her to a large rock by the path, and they both sat down on it.

Softly yet with unbreakable strength, the prince directed, "Tell me. Everything. And don't you dare make light of your own hurts--that's an order from your Crown Prince."

Like a benevolent, terrifying wave, his command swept away Ursa's polite, self-conscious shield, and the bitter truth came spilling out of her like blood from a wound. Fragmented and heart-breaking, her tale spoke of a charming prince at a royal banquet; he gave notice to a lowly noble girl, and even spent the whole evening with her (and no other). Although she didn't know it then, his enchanting (enchanted) guest, when she hurried away that night, lost something of far greater value than a delicate slipper.

As everyone knew, the magic died at midnight, but they lied about its rebirth; when the prince came to seek his bride, he gave her tears instead of kisses (the shoe wouldn't fit). Perhaps his father, so eager for a royal marriage, had perceived in the future some wise insight—yet the unwanted princess couldn't see how scorn, mistrust, and lonely despair could lead her to a happy-ever-after ending.

When the words had run dry like an empty inkwell, something hot and wet coursed down Ursa's cheek. Ashamed, the noblewoman raised a hand to wipe her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she excused herself brokenly. "I just..it's too much..."

"Don't you dare apologize, little sister," the prince adjured her in a strangely hoarse tone. "You have suffered much, and I am ashamed that my brother has caused you such agony." As his own voice broke, Ursa looked up wonderingly to see diamonds glittering on his lashes, too.

"Please; I don't understand. Why does my silly misfortune trouble you so?" Cupping her cheek in one hand, Prince Iroh brushed away another stray tear. Despite her natural shyness, the future princess couldn't turn away from that commanding, tender gaze.

"I consider you family now, little one, and no matter how things work out between Ozai and yourself, you will always be dear to me."

Unable to bear his kindness, Ursa closed her eyes in distress.

"I am not worthy of such consideration, lord prince; my grandfather betrayed everything you stand for." As much as she loved the tales of Roku, she couldn't deny the truth.

"Not everything," corrected the prince encouragingly. "The Avatar's duty was to guard balance of the world. That is worthwhile and necessary even though your grandfather...didn't realize that fire is most fit to rule." At mention of her ancestor's treachery, Ursa felt the blood rising again to her face. As though to comfort the noblewoman, her companion tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"And restoring balance and harmony is an endeavor I hope to accomplish, when the rest of the world finally allows us to share our greatness. I already strive to keep peace among my people, and my own family."

When she tilted her head inquiringly, Prince Iroh glanced away in apparent reluctance.

In a low tone he answered, "I said before that my brother has reason to be jealous."

"Yes, I remember."

Meeting her eyes, the royal confessed, "It isn't you he's jealous of—not the most."

Despite the awakening glimmer in Ursa's memory, she didn't fully grasp his meaning, so he went on.

"Our rivalry, albeit usually friendly, is no secret. Still, what Ozai does hide from nearly everyone is just how...overshadowed he feels by me. Everything he wants is just one step away, but unreachable."

Her puzzlement only partially dispelled by Prince Iroh's explanation, the noblewoman discovered that she now harbored righteous anger towards her prince.

"He should be grateful to be part of the royal family! At least his grandfather was a hero!"

"I know," the prince agreed softly, "and my brother realizes that his station in life grants him much honor and recognition--but I have more, at least the way he sees it. I'm the Crown Prince, someday to reign as Fire Lord. Even more importantly, however, Ozai believes that our father favors me over himself."

"That's...most important to him?" she asked curiously, with a strange, unidentifiable emotion tugging at her.

"He's a loyal son before anything else, Ursa," avouched Prince Iroh. "It may not always seem that way—he doesn't like to make himself vulnerable, as devotion inevitably does—but he would die to win Father's esteem."

"I never imagined—that is, if you'll pardon my presumption..."

"My command still holds, little sister."

"Yes, sir," she acquiesced, blushing. "What I mean to say is... Does the Fire Lord really...prefer you over his second son?" While the noblewoman could fully sympathize if Lord Azulon did, the idea of favoritism in her nation's monarch still disconcerted her.

Before responding, the Crown Prince thought for a moment.

"My brother is harder to know, and thus it takes more time to start loving him. He can easily win people over when he wants to, but there's still a mental barrier that he won't let anyone pass—and as we both know, he's brutal in defense of that protective shell." Appearing burdened once more by sorrow, he continued, "My father doesn't understand him, perhaps because they're alike in many ways that neither of them realize. I try to mediate between them, but only so much I can do."

Although Ursa had experienced firsthand the younger prince's beguiling charm, wasn't it only a facade for his true, insufferable nature?

"You mean...there's something in Prince Ozai to love?"

The elder prince blessed her with a warm, sunny smile, like a golden summer day.

"Yes, Ursa, strange as it seems. Beneath that prickly shell, my little brother is a rare treasure. He just won't share any of it." Thoughtfully Ursa's companion regarded her.

"It takes just the right person to draw it out of him, and I'm afraid I'm not that one," he admitted, looking wistful—the sunny sky clouded,

Strangely defensive, the noblewoman asserted, "Judging from the past several weeks, I'm certainly not that one either."

His answer surprised her.

"Actually, I think you just might be that one, and that your very nature caused all this turmoil."

Astonished, she stared at him.

"Listen," requested Prince Iroh softly, his eyes searching her own. "I understand that you may not believe me, but the party wasn't a lie. Ozai really was starting to let you in past his defensive wall; if I know my brother at all, I perceived that much."

Half-formed thoughts whirling chaotically in her head, Ursa stammered, "But--then...what changed?"

As the royal's gaze turned inward, it became infinitely gentle, and infinitely sad.

"Ozai is proud and stubborn. Despite his sense of duty, he will fight tooth and nail to keep his thoughts and desires free, if nothing else—and he will even torture himself to do so."

With a sudden insight, she exclaimed, "The marriage! I mean, when your father arranged it... He said he didn't want to..."

"...and so he's fighting to keep you out of his heart, because it's the only freedom he has left," Prince Iroh finished, nodding.

Disoriented by all these revelations, the noblewoman grasped at one of her many questions vying for attention.

"If an arranged marriage makes Prince Ozai so unhappy, why would the Fire Lord...do it to him?"

"To protect him," the firstborn said simply. "As I expect you've heard, there are rumors of hidden treachery in the competition for a royal son-in-law. Lord Azulon may not understand his secondborn, but he values Ozai's wellbeing. His life was exchanged for Lady Ilah's, you see, and my father wants to make her sacrifice count—as do I."

While honored that he trusted her with so many family secrets, Ursa felt at a loss to respond.

"Prince Iroh--why are you telling me this?"

Once more he burdened and sheltered her with that profound and steady gaze.

"There is a favor I must ask of you; it won't be easy, but it may help you and my brother to find peace."

"Anything is better than this," the bride-to-be consented with a fervency she didn't expect.

"Give my brother a second chance," the prince urged her. "Prove to him that it's worth letting you into his heart." Becoming tender once more, his expression grew far away. "Teach him not to be afraid."

Although his adjuration surprised Ursa, it also stirred her natural soft-heartedness. Contemplating all that she had learned about the royal family, the future princess actually began to pity her betrothed: the devoted, forgotten son. As a small spark of hope flickered inside her, Ursa wondered if she could really save her happy ending by showing the invisible prince that she had always seen him.

Then another, more familiar wave of emotion and memory, this time dark and icy cold, suffocated her in a scornful glance and a mocking smile. Over the course of one fairytale tragedy, she watched them replayed ten thousand times; shuddering, the noblewoman shrank away from the thought of making herself yet more vulnerable to Prince Ozai, by reaching out to him in kindness. If she fed her stifled love for the younger prince, and the elder's plan failed, it might enslave Ursa forever to her shining, ruthless apparition.

To clear away the premonitions, the noblewoman shook her head and gave her companion an anguished excuse.

"I'm sorry, Prince Iroh.. I just... I can't...please forgive me."

Although disappointed, he released her from guilt (he did his best).

"I understand," he assured her quietly, almost speaking to himself. "It was a hard thing to ask of you."

As the Crown Prince wandered again through his own weighty thoughts, Ursa's refusal left her with another dilemma in its wake. Desperately she hoped that her lack of courage had not torn a rift in their friendship, especially after this conversation.

Thankfully, Prince Iroh led both of them back home to the world of sunlight and wildflowers. In fact, his next query did so literally.

"Do you like flowers?" he asked in a friendly tone, leaving distress and uncertainty behind them.

Still struggling with her internal debate, Ursa took a minute to process the strangely normal question.

"Um...yes, Your Highness."

"What kind?"

Although neither of them had quite escaped the brooding stormcloud of their predicament, the noblewoman appreciated his attempt to make the conversation light and casual again.

"Let's see... Fire lilies are my favorite. Why do you ask, if I may inquire?"

Prince Iroh stood up.

"Come with me."

For a few minutes she followed him in silence further into the hills. Before long, however, they met Piandao coming the other way, and pleasant surprise drove away Ursa's lingering confusion and doubt.

"This is the young man I told you about; I'm pleased to present Piandao of the Hua family," she introduced him when the apprentice swordsman came close enough.

Serenely good-humored as always, the prince introduced himself next.

"Crown Prince Iroh, but please drop the 'Crown.' I'm honored to finally meet someone my young friend as spoken highly of."

In startled reverence, the apprentice swordsman quickly bowed.

"It is I who am honored, Your Highness. Lady Ursa was indeed generous when praising my unworthiness."

"I have no doubt she was only telling the truth," affirmed Prince Iroh, "and I am very grateful for the kindness you have shown her."

Lowering his head in embarrassment, Piandao replied, "I accept your thanks, sir, but I don't particularly deserve them. I simply began talking with a lonely-looking, beautiful young woman—who turned out to be rather marvelous."

"Marvelous she certainly is." As though to assure his sister-to-be that he believed in her, the prince smiled at her with a warm, steady light in his eyes.

While Ursa was still sorting through her conflicting reactions of pleasure, shyness, and returning guilt, another sound distracted them.

Running up to them along the stony path, a man she recognized as Prince Iroh's manservant exclaimed, "My lord prince! A messenger hawk has returned for you."

Becoming preoccupied, the royal muttered, "Again, it seems? How many times can they--"

Apparently jolting back to his surroundings, he apologized, "I'm sorry, friends; I must leave you now. Piandao, I am pleased to have met you, and Ursa, we'll continue this soon."

As they gave him polite farewells, Prince Iroh threw them a last, hurried but genuine smile as he strode after his manservant.

After watching him go, Piandao offered, "Would you like to come with me to the flower stall at the market? My mother wants me to buy some lilies for the sitting room."

While Ursa would have liked to spend more time with her friend, she decided she didn't feel like being around many people right now.

"No thank you; I believe I'll just keep strolling about the countryside."

"It is beautiful; I come here a lot too, when I'm not down at the beach," he told her. "In that case, enjoy your walk, and you're always welcome at my house."

-

* * *

-

I've taken to brooding in my mother's old room; it helps me think, somehow, when I don't feel like writing (or firebending, strangely enough). For years no-one has gone in there, except the servants who dust the place, and it's nice to have a hideout where I won't be bothered. I've found I do need to brood as well as vent sometimes, especially when I don't feel like supplying the verbal part of a sparring match with my overconfident friend. Actually, I used to haunt my mother's room at the palace, sometimes, when I was a kid... But I'm not here to recount my childhood. If you want a depressing story, go see the Ember Island Players.

A few days ago, my girl and I had yet another lover's quarrel in the garden (ironic, isn't it?), and she actually fought back this time. It piqued my interest (yes, once again) when she stood up to me; I don't have much respect for those who simply grovel at my feet. Properly roused, my future bride can be quite a fierce little vixen, and I always appreciate a willing opponent (though I wouldn't let on as much, especially not to her). Seriously, it gets so annoying when That Tealoving Airhead simply refuses to uphold his side of the argument...

Nonetheless, my improved opinion of Ursa's shouting match abilities doesn't mean Zhao's theory is gaining ground. Sure, I liked her at first, but I'm very good at killing useless emotions, especially when I'm this determined. At least, it isn't usually a problem—and that denotes exceptions. One, actually. But then, my treacherous secondborn envy blazes with infinitely more power than a weak crush on a pretty girl, and I've still triumphed enough to confine it to a small, shadowy corner of my mind.

I'll admit I am still jealous when my princess goes around with other guys, but isn't that natural? I mean, she's given me reason to suspect her, after those flirting and gossiping incidents.

Look at me: coming up with excuses, as if I needed to. I have better things to do, like perhaps explaining why I'm currently so annoyed with Brother Dear.

Although I had successfully forsworn his company since my latest spat with Ursa, I came back just now to find him in the front sitting room. Hoping to escape notice, I walked calmly past him. Unfortunately, the Crown Prince of Tea and Evergracious Sunshine stopped me with a challenge in his eyes.

"Ozai, wait a minute."

Since I couldn't slip away, I resorted to making this as unpleasant as possible for him as well as me.

"Go ahead," I assented, rolling my eyes. "Deliver your wise instruction, elder brother."

"Ursa told me what happened in the garden."

Smiling thinly, I observed, "You're still thick as thieves, I see. Did she give you a blow-by-blow account, then, or just a general overview? It was a thrilling match, I must say..."

"You mocked her, and you insulted her honor," Iroh cut me off, voice harder now as his anger rose. (Like that scared me.)

Unfazed, I shook my head at him.

"You should have seen that girl laughing on the beach with whats-his-name of the apprenticeship in pointy objects."

"If you're talking about Piandao, they're only friends. I don't know what you heard, but I'm certain no harm was intended. I've met him, and that young man is both humble and honorable." I could tell he was trying to pound the point into my thick, evil skull.

Looking away, I remarked cynically, "It's the honorable ones you have to watch out for. You never know when they'll do something incredibly stupid."

At that point, Iroh almost lost it; his jaw tightened, and his breathing became quick and sharp. (How lucky that his patience regained power just in time.)

"I can see that you aren't going to be very helpful right now, so let me just say this; you hurt Ursa. She has suffered immensely from your conduct, and I think you know that full well."

Feeling reckless, I told the truth for once (not always the wisest plan, in my experience). With a slow smile, I met his gaze defiantly.

"That's right; I do know that. So, what are you going to do about it?"

An instant longer he stared at me; I saw his vocal cord straining as though he wanted to unleash Agni's fury on the monster before him. Shoulders slumping, he closed his eyes, and became my nonthreatening brother once again.

"Nothing, because there's nothing I can do," he answered in a slightly dead tone. "I just have to be ready to pick up the pieces until someone breaks." As he rubbed a weary hand over his face, I noticed how careworn he looked. Actually, he's been looking sleep-deprived a lot lately. I wonder what's gotten him so stressed; I wouldn't expect him to freak out this much over my wicked plot, even for Ursa's sake.

But then, Iroh has been disappearing into his room quite often of late, and a lot of messenger hawks have arrived for him...

An interesting line of speculation, but hardly a relevant one—at least for now.

Striding out of the room, I called over my shoulder, "You can forget about picking up my pieces, because I won't be the one to break."

Just before I crossed through the doorway, I heard him murmur in a low voice, "That's what I'm afraid of."

Go ahead, Iroh. Pretend I won't accomplish my horrible scheme, no matter how unhappy it makes me. (You know me that well.)

The alternative is worse; I just have to keep telling myself that.

And I have no doubt whatsoever that I will succeed in pushing Ursa completely and irrevocably out of my heart.

-

* * *

-

All right...maybe I am experiencing a slight difficulty in performing the above-mentioned task. (Does that phrase work, since the above-mentioned task was actually mentioned on the previous page? Never mind; stupid question.)

But my problems aren't impossible; I mean, I can fix this. My plan will work. It has to.

Ugh. This is pathetic. Like me, lately. Since Iroh confronted me, I keep running into Ursa; it's like we're magnetically attracted, or something... Better not pursue that thought. Speaking of attractive, she is; I know I've been admitting it, but now I can't get it out of my head...!

Blazes! I'm so infuriated with myself, with my own weakness, that I'd challenge me to an agni kai, if I could.

...I'm an idiot; yes, I know. But at least I've recognized that. Unlike Some People...

You know, I think what really gets to me is when Ursa gets vixenish. I almost feel like smiling whenever I think about her flashing eyes, her soft lips pressed together in anger, or that time she almost slapped me, back when I first broke the news of our engagement.

But then, I also keep remembering all the tears I've seen running down her face, the way her voice breaks when the poor silly thing tries to argue against my logic, and how her eyes seem so wistful and sad now in her bloodless face. Maybe I just enjoy the effect my hostility can elicit from a creature as lovely as she is. I'm always fascinated by Ursa's reactions when I hurt her; I guess that's my love for power coming through. It does make things interesting, and that's always a plus.

With all this in mind, do I really want her to stop liking me? I suspect that might be the reason my plan isn't working. Admittedly, the prospect of indulging rather than denying my attraction to her is far more inviting than constant rage and disgust...

My, my, aren't I disturbing? Evil, too. But we've established that.

So then... Time for a slight change of plan.

-

* * *

-

Since her conversation with Prince Iroh, Ursa had taken to wandering alone through the hills behind the beach house, where she would meet few others. Having relapsed somewhat into the grey melancholy, she once more preferred solitude in order to ponder her dilemma. Consequently, Dai and Ting Yan now shopped and explored the town as a duo.

Despite the Crown Prince's effort to release his sister-to-be from obligation, the noblewoman couldn't help feeling guilty that she had turned him down; he had requested her compliance so earnestly. However, she didn't see any option besides refusal. Encounters with Prince Ozai caused her enough agony without purposefully making herself vulnerable.

Preoccupied with internal quandary, Ursa didn't recognize the nearby voices she had begun hearing until she rounded the shoulder of a hill, emerging into another green valley. Then she abruptly halted, berating herself for her lack of attention and dreading its consequences.

In the center of the meadow, a single elm tree towered majestically over its surroundings. However, the all-too-familiar young men at its base caught her attention. Engaged in some sort of fire-breathing contest, Zhao and Prince Ozai tried in turn to kindle various small, twiggy veins in the spreading, leafy boughs, seeming indifferent to the health of the elm.

Obtaining his current goal, Zhao exclaimed, "All right! I got that branch eight feet up!"

Unimpressed, the prince challenged, "Bet you I can go higher."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really. I'll light that leaf right at the top."

"Not even you could do that," Zhao scoffed.

"Watch me."

Drawing in a deep breath, Prince Ozai unleashed a fiery roar up the trunk. While he definitely lit the top leaf, the rest of the tree also went up in flames.

Showing as little concern for the fire hazard as he had for the elm, the prince stood back to admire his handiwork.

"Awesome," he commented, adding, "Told you."

"Okay, you did," his friend admitted, "but give me a hand or we'll burn down Ember Island!"

"Oh—sure." Although he spoke with nonchalance, Prince Ozai attacked ferociously in subduing his element. When they quenched the blaze, leaving the elm a charred grey skeleton, he casually folded his arms.

"Zhao, why don't you go on back to the house? I'd like to speak privately with our unannounced audience member."

The noblewoman steeled herself for whatever was coming.

"Oh hey, Ursa—didn't see you there," Zhao greeted her with his usual pleased grin. Although she wouldn't have chosen it, at least his smirking appreciation was better than the prince's calculating dislike.

"Will you please just go?" requested the latter pointedly

"Sure thing," mildly agreed the nobleman, clapping a hand on the prince's shoulder with a knowing smile. When the royal's expression didn't lighten, Zhao seemed to realize he should leave. With a friendly wave in farewell, he headed back the way Ursa had come.

As Prince Ozai turned to his future princess, she automatically shrank away from him, but his own greeting astounded her.

"I'm sorry my friend's so unobservant," he apologized, cool and collected as if nothing had changed since the banquet. "Your arrival should have been important enough for him to notice."

"It should have?" she echoed the prince, confused and wary.

"But of course. You'll be my princess soon, and the royal family demands the highest honor from our subjects." Giving a quiet laugh, he let it drop. "Still...it doesn't matter now. Our game is pretty much over, judging by the tree."

Following his gaze, Ursa had the impression that she was looking at the ashen husk of her own dreaming hope for love.

"Poor tree." Her emotions and eloquence presently lifeless as the elm, she simply stated the truth. "You killed it."

Casting it one more disinterested glance, he shrugged.

"It's just a tree. It was dying anyway." Expression darkening, the prince surprised her again. "Some fool had gouged a ring into the bark, with no apparent purpose. Better to burn quickly than slowly starve," he added pensively, eyes narrowing.

Had his intentions been merciful, then?

Before the noblewoman could pursue this puzzling thought, Prince Ozai continued, "I'm glad you're here, though; I've been wanting to speak to you alone."

"Alone?" Although Ursa still had her guard up, it came out sounding so forlorn.

"Yes. Iroh had a little talk with me; he made me realize the folly of my ways." Ruefully he smiled, as though inviting her to laugh with him. Ursa didn't trust his changed behavior enough to comply; it sounded too good to be true.

"My brother said you told him how you have suffered, and at my hands," the prince revealed. "It seems a shame to let so many tears streak your lovely face."

Afraid now of his oiled manner, the noblewoman took a step back.

"What are you saying?"

Taking a step closer, Prince Ozai looked intently at her.

"I'm saying...I've come to regret the heated antagonism I've shown you," he confessed, elegant even in remorse. And yet...

Did he ever regret?

Now he moved even nearer; mere inches remained between them. Noiseless and deadly, the pantherwolf circled his prey, almost breathing down her neck when he spoke again.

"I realize that I had defined our union as a political one, but now I think we should...change our relationship, if you will."

"But...I thought you considered love worthless."

"Maybe your arguments got through to me. Or maybe...I'm a good liar," he purred teasingly.

To ward off the disappointment when this attentive (albeit sinister) illusion shattered, Ursa stopped him.

Although dread immobilized her body, she bravely asserted, "I know what you're doing."

"You do?" the prince murmured in her ear.

"You're...luring me in, so I'll let down my defenses."

His fingers lightly (possessively) resting on her shoulders, he countered, "You should be happy that your future husband is willing to spend time luring you in."

"But...it wouldn't be real," she softly protested. "You're just doing it so you can break me."

"And why would I do that?" asked Prince Ozai in a low, unreadable tone.

"Because...to..." Despite her fear, the noblewoman struggled to put the danger into words. "You want power. You're jealous; Prince Iroh told me so," she recited, hoping that rivalry's anger would end his beguiling, dangerous mood.

Instead the royal only took her chin in one hand, turning her face towards him. More terrifying than in rage or scorn, he grinned at her almost impishly, with a mad, carefree glint returning to his eyes.

"You're right; I am jealous. It's the fate of the secondborn prince. But I'm also jealous of you. I want to have your beauty all to myself..." he crooned, gaze turning inward. Gentle as any lover, dominating as any tyrant, Prince Ozai began to move his thumb across her lip...

His future bride gasped in horror.

"Why—why are you doing this?"

His eyes flicking upward to her own, the familiar half smile taunted Ursa.

"Relax, turtleduck; just be grateful I've changed my mind."

"But...do you love me?"

Pityingly he explained, "You'll be my wife, Ursa, not my true love. You should really stop letting those romantic notions rule your life."

"You mean--but I...I can't do this, without love—it won't work," she persisted, feeling bewildered.

"Keep telling yourself that, darling," Prince Ozai mocked her tenderly, "Or else you'll be in trouble on our wedding night."

The blood drained from her cheeks.

"What?"

Amused, he raised an eyebrow.

"Why do you think Father arranged our marriage, other than to preserve me from plots? Any princess is simply expected to bear her prince heirs; further connection between the two is unnecessary, and likely foolish. That's why you ought to thank the spirits I've decided to pay attention to you."

Breathing faster now, the noblewoman found it impossible to think coherently while captured by that distracting, fiery gaze.

Stalking around to where he could completely face her, the prince further reduced the distance between them. With his eyes now above her sight range, his lips caught her attention instead. Full and sensuous, they spoke reassurance and bondage.

"Don't worry, turtleduck. I'll be sure to make it...enjoyable for you."

"That could never be," she whispered almost to herself, wincing as though in pain.

His grip on her chin tightened, and his voice became hard.

"You think me so undesirable?"

In the presence of his usual imperious wrath, Ursa found her own powers of argument faintly returning as well.

"It is your...personality that makes you so."

Wryly the prince chuckled.

"I hardly think my personality will concern you when you share my bed."

"There's nothing more important than love." Perhaps if she repeated it enough, it would come true.

"There is, and it's our duty to the Fire Lord," Prince Ozai spurned her, mouth tensing. "You _will_ aid me in preserving our bloodline; that is your sole duty and use as my princess."

"You mean...to force me?" The words came out sounding strangled.

He appeared to soften (reveling in his control).

"Only if I have to. I want you to want me. In fact, you will want me," he decided playfully.

"How?" she asked in a small voice, shutting out everything besides confusion.

"I'll make it so; it shouldn't be hard. You think me attractive, do you not? Don't bother denying it--I'll know you're lying." As Ursa knit her brow in perplexed alarm, he elaborated, "I see your eyes following me when you think I'm not looking--and besides, I always know."

Ignoring his recognition of her weakness for him, the noblewoman clarified, "So you mean not only to force me, but to forcibly _seduce_ me?" It sounded so preposterous; a distant part of her laughed.

"Pretty much," the prince affirmed briskly. Pausing, he seemed to consider an entertaining notion. "Actually, I hope you will continue resisting me; that way I think we'll have more fun. I get so bored when Iroh makes a point of not contesting my wishes more than necessary, and he's the only one whose rank allows it. Except for Father, of course, but that would be madness _and_ disloyalty."

"Please—let me go," she begged, fighting to pull away from him. Reminded of another fight in another garden, the noblewoman suddenly realized that wildflowers brightly adorned the meadow, like haphazard flowerbeds. Was the curse inescapable?

Sardonically the prince inquired, "What, you think I'll assault you? Like I informed that featherbrained simpleton you hang around with, I'll wait on that till after we're wed. However, I will do whatever it takes to obey my Lord." With no other reply to give, Ursa's tear-filled gaze silently pled for release by the Fire Lord's loyal son (so Prince Iroh had been right, after all).

"Very well. But..." His hand began to slide from her chin to her throat, before it was stopped by her high collar. As it lingered on her fluttering pulse, so did the merciless secret smile. "Just don't forget you're mine."

Echoing their history once again, Ursa stumbled backward in her haste as Prince Ozai finally let go.

She rushed blindly to the beach house.

-

* * *

-

Well, that was fun. And by "that," I mean playing with my lovelorn princess's tragically broken heart just now. I guess it really is my hobby to disturb people; Ursa fled from me in horror. I could tell she still liked me, though. (Which means I know for sure that my original plan failed. Ah, well; it wasn't worth my time.) Even before she confirmed what I suspected, I told her I'd known it all along. So what? I lied. I do that, especially when it advances my own dark purposes. I guess I really am a control freak, but you have to be, as the younger prince (who, unlike everyone else in my nation, am currently in as high a rank as I'll ever get).

But I'm not getting into my "secondborn angst" right now. Maybe instead I should brainstorm for a new battle plan to use during the mandatory picnic Iroh's planned for all of us today. I don't know what he's thinking, but then, I rarely do. I can read everyone else (Father excepted), but my brother's a mystery. So is my princess, for some reason, but I'm not about to let that stop me. I've always liked a challenge; besides livening up the game, it just proves me that much more worthy to win when I do.

Speaking of fun, I'm actually starting look forward to what I threatened Ursa with...you know, the "forcible seduction" and so forth. It will be interesting to exercise my powers of persuasion in that particular situation (and doubtless very rewarding). Since I got the good looks (although my brother entertains the notion that his fangirls adore him for more than rank and gracious condescension), I'm not anticipating very much difficulty in...winning her over. For that matter, Ursa herself has a rather pleasing figure; she is indeed altogether "stunning," as Zhao described her.

And...against all logic, I seem to be jealous of him now, just for noticing what any guy would. Great. That proves my point that emotions are useless.

If I'm physically attracted to Ursa (which I definitely am), accepting that does brighten the future a bit, and I don't think it seriously undermines my goal of internal freedom. I can't let her beauty distract me, though; sleeping with her doesn't mean I'll let her break through my mental fortress. She started to do that at the party (which turned out to be a good thing because her ensuing crush gave me power over her), but I can't afford to slip again. People take advantage of you, if you let them. I know I sound like some troubled teen (I can just see Iroh smacking his forehead, because—oh, right!--that's what I am), but it's true.

I know. She's the one girl I would have chosen; that's becoming more clear to me all the time. Reality, however, dictated otherwise, and that is regrettable but unavoidable. I certainly don't need "true love" to find satisfaction in marriage, especially not with my new, improved scheme. All my life, real satisfaction has eluded me; I'm not sure I know how to be content.

All right; I admit it. Ursa will always remind me of a different, less stormy lifetime, when I could have perhaps attained that elusive inner peace Iroh talks about--if only Father hadn't forced his protection on me. That girl is the key to my gilded cage, the butterflymoth that flew away. But the candleflame will draw her back, not hesitating to burn those fragile, glittering wings. (I'm still in the metaphor, here.)

The poetry my brother loves to quote compares love to some kind of sappily ecstatic bondage. I've never understood how that works; it sounds like sentimental mush. How can any sort of enslavement be good? No, thanks; I'll brave loneliness and cruelty to escape it. (Oh, yes! Let's be emotional and melodramatic! Because we all aspire to be like Iroh.... Excuse me while I gag...)

I was never really in touch with my heart, anyway. I'm not sure it even exists; maybe the spirits forgot to endow me with a human soul, as one more consequence of the secondborn curse. But it's not a curse, not in that way. Immunity to remorse allows me to do whatever it takes to rise out of my brother's shadow, because I'm never bogged down by regret.

Don't misunderstand me. I will always remain loyal to my father, and even his firstborn—that's a matter of honor, for which life itself is no great sacrifice. But I can't afford to let my feelings complicate the problem, or I might actually break.

Well, enough ranting. Iroh says it's almost time to leave on our outing; I think he expects us to be excited about it, of all things (the nerve!).

Let's go picnic, shall we?

-

* * *

-

Under Prince Iroh's direction, the serving help rushed to and fro, packing food in baskets for the sunset picnic he had planned. Albeit with varying levels of dissension, the teenage nobles (and notably the royal teenager) reluctantly deferred to the Crown Prince's agenda.

"I don't see why Iroh's making us go on a stupid picnic," Zhao complained, slumping against the wall as he waited for the other prince to join them.

"I believe His Highness hopes that it will improve relations between Certain People," Dai pointedly informed him.

Shaking his head in exasperation, amusement, or both, Zhao replied, "Yeah, speaking of a Certain Hothead, I wonder where he is?"

"I certainly don't want to know," proclaimed a haughtily aloof Ting Yan, peeking at the boys' wing in curiosity even as she turned up her nose at it.

While they waited, the young people heard the elder prince tell his helpers in the next room, "One of you stop packing and get the door; that must be Piandao." Recalling that Prince Iroh had invited along their friend the apprentice swordsman, Ursa looked forward to a distraction from other, less personable guests.

Speaking of whom, at last the remaining denizen of the boys' quarters emerged from his lair.

"I guess the party can start, now that I'm here to make it a little less lame," he carelessly observed by way of greeting. Ushered in by a servant, Piandao also joined them, allowing Ursa to ignore her prince as she greeted the apprentice swordsman.

"I'm glad you could come with us."

"I'm grateful to Prince Iroh for inviting me," he answered, casting a wary look at his friend's betrothed-to-be. For a moment Prince Ozai stared back imperiously, then moved away from them with Zhao in tow.

"All right, everyone; let's go," the Crown Prince urged them, appearing in the doorway with a basket-laden entourage.

"Let's get this over with," sighed his brother, thus giving Ursa the incentive to regard the picnic optimistically, so that her opinion of it wouldn't match his.

With the serving help following behind them, Prince Iroh led his regiment up the path on which he and the future princess had walked the day of their conversation. As they climbed through the undulating hills once more, Ursa properly introduced the other girls to Piandao.

"I'm so happy to finally meet you!" gushed Ting Yan.

"I've been looking forward to it as well," added Dai.

While the three exchanged pleasantries, Ursa noticed they were passing the point where an urgent message had called the Crown Prince away. Before long, the group came to a break between two hills. Beyond them stretched a wide, dipping meadow of fire lilies, kindled to a blazing crimson by the molten sun.

Her breath stolen away, the noblewoman gasped in wonder. Regal as any Fire Lord, Prince Iroh turned to smile kindly at her.

"This is what I wanted to show you," he explained simply.

"...Thank you," said she, overcome yet again by his consideration (and haunted by self-doubt, as she remembered the sadness in his eyes that day they talked with one another.)

Gazing tenderly down at his almost-sister, he replied, "You're welcome," and then started helping the servants unpack.

After they finished, the prince told them, "You have my thanks, which will soon be joined by the extra pay I promised. With this done, you're welcome to go on your way; I have a nagging suspicion that all these baskets will end up quite a bit lighter by the time we carry them back," he added with a wink.

When Prince Iroh called his companions together, the young people slowly approached each other and the picnic blanket, and sat down to a delicious spread of fruit, bread, cheese and cold chickenpig. Unfortunately, the teenagers' proximity and recent interaction created too much tension for them to fully enjoy the meal. Thankful now for her friends' presence, Ursa knelt beside Dai and Ting Yan, who flanked her like bodyguards. Along with Zhao, Prince Ozai chose a place as close as he possibly could to his princess, greatly succeeding in the probable attempt to make her nervous. Although Piandao seemed to wish he could also sit near Ursa, at Prince Iroh's invitation he took a seat by the royal's side, as though to prove his presence legitimate to the younger prince.

While they ate, conversation was forced and stiff, despite the Crown Prince's efforts to lighten it. Occasionally Prince Ozai would break his forbidding silence to slip in a sardonic comment (with a guffaw of agreement from Zhao). Thankfully, however, he gave Ursa no notice except to glance at her now and then with a sly half smile. Along with Prince Iroh, Piandao stout-heartedly pressed on in the name of well-mannered discourse, each of them asking polite questions of one another or the girls. Between Ting Yan's nervous giggles and Dai's reproachful looks, Ursa did her best, as always, to ride the wave (serenely aching).

When everything edible had been consumed (largely by the teenage boys), their picnic supper mercifully ended, and Prince Iroh dismissed them. As they all scattered to remote corners of the field, Ursa and her friends selected a little knoll just outside the plethora of lilies, where they could look down over the blood-red sea and watch the glowing sky. From here they saw Zhao confer briefly with Prince Ozai, and then cautiously approach Piandao. As though scouting out the enemy, the two young men began talking to each other with guarded interest.

As for the princes, each elected solitude. Near enough to Zhao and Piandao that he could contribute a word or two, Prince Iroh lay on his back among the firelilies, presumably studying the rose-tinged clouds in a most unprincely fashion. True to his nature (if not his bending ability), Prince Ozai preferred the shadow to the sunlight. In the shade of a grove of wild fruit trees near the meadow's edge, he leaned casually against their trunks, evidently keeping an eye on his princess from afar.

Choosing to pretend he didn't exist, the latter focused on the richly golden sunset.

"So, Ursa," Ting Yan recalled her to the present, "guess what happened at the marketplace today!"

"What happened?" Although she harbored no burning desire to find out, her friend's excitement did interest her.

"We ran into this guy who—you tell her, Dai."

"Apparently Ting Yan has an aunt living here, several hours' journey away. A servant of her household was here on business..."

"...and she wants us to come visit!" Ting Yan enthusiastically reclaimed the story.

"Oh..." said Ursa, turning back to the sunset.

"What's wrong?" asked Dai.

Uncomfortably she tried to excuse her seeming indifference.

"Well, that is...I'm a stranger to Ting Yan's aunt, and it seems like a long journey..." When the noblewoman tried to avoid revealing that she didn't feel like making the trip, her tactful friend took the hint.

"Then we're not going," Dai calmly decided.

"But Dai!" the other protested. "I haven't seen my aunt since I was twelve! She could be old and decrepit for all I know!"

Dai looked at her.

"Was she old and decrepit when you were twelve?"

"Well, no," Ting Yan admitted. "Actually, she's younger than my mom."

"Then stop worrying," Dai admonished, exasperated. "Three years is not going to make that much of a difference--not for adults, anyway."

"You should go see her."

At Ursa's low-voiced statement, the other two stared at her.

"I don't...I'll be alright," she assured them, trying not to mumble. "I don't want Ting Yan to lose this chance; three years is a long time not to see someone." While the noblewoman didn't relish their absence, neither did she wish to selfishly hoard her friends, especially since she had lately avoided their company.

"Are you sure?" Ting Yan questioned in delighted surprise. "Because that's amazingly--"

"We couldn't possibly leave you now, with things as they are," Dai cut her off.

"That's very kind of you, but I do have Prince Iroh here," Ursa pointed out, shrugging off their concern as best she could.

"Yes, but duty calls, and he often confines himself to his room," countered her friend.

"Well then...perhaps I'll spend the time with Piandao."

"What if Prince Ozai catches you together?" Dai pressed.

"All right; maybe I'll just follow Prince Iroh's example and lock myself in my room until you get back!" Voice rising, she lost control for a moment.

In the heavy silence that followed, a movement distracted Ursa, and drew her eyes as by a magic spell (a curse) towards Prince Ozai. Reaching up into one of the trees, he plucked a fruit from the branch above him. Eyes still fixed on her own, he sank his teeth into it and slowly chewed with a measured, powerful jaw, controlled yet careless in his enjoyment.

When the prince slightly turned his head to one side, the setting sun bathed him in liquid fire. Dark like a trickle of blood, some of the juice spilled out the corner of his mouth. After wiping it with the back of his hand (and replacing it with a taunting smirk), he tossed away the core, just as he discarded everything (and everyone) that he considered worthless.

As three of them tore their eyes away, Ting Yan queried, "Is it just me, or is Prince Ozai...different, somehow?"

Ursa avoided looking at them.

"You know something, don't you?" Dai guessed.

She hesitated.

"It's nothing."

More urgently, Dai persisted, "Yes, it is. Tell us, Ursa: what did he do to you?"

"Did he hurt you?" asked Ting Yan worriedly.

"No--nothing like that," she assuaged their fears, the blood rushing to her cheeks for more than one reason. "He just...flirted with me."

"Flirted with you?" Ting Yan repeated, looking puzzled.

Glancing sharply at Ursa, Dai inquired, "What did he say, exactly?"

Avoiding the exact words, she paraphrased as delicately as she could.

"He told me...that he's come to the conclusion that he should...expend more time and effort on our, ah, mutual enjoyment of the part where we—where we produce heirs."

Growing pink in turn, Ting Yan reasoned, "Oh, well, that's a good thing, right?"

In responding, the future princess kept emotion out of her voice.

"He's...still not interested in real love."

As Dai contemplated this, a small, thin smile of victory appeared, and she raised her head confidently.

"If he's interested in any part of your marriage, I think this is our chance."

At their confusion, she continued, "Ursa may be able to gain his affection by...using his apparent weakness: her beauty."

"But that doesn't count," Ting Yan reminded her, "and he still thinks love is stupid."

"I know that's what he said," Dai acknowledged, "but we might be able to persuade him otherwise, if we approach this properly. My mother taught me that sometimes you have to do what you must, even when it seems, well, less than noble. Think about it, Ursa--perhaps you could have a loving marriage after all."

Although she spoke gently, her speculation kindled a harsh, painful hope in the soon-to-be royal bride.

Resigned to the lack of other options (that wouldn't force her to keep bleeding), she gave in.

"What do you want me to do?"

Warming to her subject, Dai told Ursa, "I realize you're sheltered and soft-spoken, as befits a young girl. Whether you realize it or not, though, you're naturally quite blessed with feminine charm, and I believe you can employ it to make Prince Ozai fall for you."

"You want me to...manipulate him?" she inquired a little uncertainly.

"If that's what it takes," her friend answered reasonably. Although it brought to Ursa's mind her prince's determination to fulfill a duty by any means necessary, the likeness strengthened her resolve instead of weakening it.

"I shall, then. Any suggestions?"

Dai considered.

"You're naturally shy and quiet, so use that to your advantage. Be demure, but coy; look at him under lashes when he thinks you think he isn't looking."

"Smile a lot, too, and laugh at everything he says," Ting Yan offered helpfully, "even if it's one of those mean remarks he makes all the time."

"Good idea," Dai approved. "Ursa, you do have a beautiful smile, so that should work. But laugh lightheartedly, as though you're simply amused by his immaturity (which you can't deny he exhibits). I know he's royalty, but if you're overtly respectful, there's no end of ways you can subtly insult someone. And you might try making a few flirtatious remarks of your own; but be subtle about it, or your attempt to win him over might backfire."

Although Ursa wanted to ask them how much worse it could possibly get if their plan backfired, she only nodded in compliance, her head spinning.

Meanwhile, Ting Yan posed a question of her own.

"That's amazing, Dai. Where'd you learn so much about flirting?"

"Among many other things, my mother impressed upon me that winning someone's affections can be a vital skill in making a good and reasonably happy match," Dai explained confusingly. "Where did you learn so much about it--if I want to know, that is?"

"Oh, just everywhere." Shrugging, she clarified, "I have five brothers, and they're all girl-crazy."

From Dai's expression, perhaps she hadn't wanted to find out after all, but a new voice closed the subject.

"And what might you lovely fire spirits be discussing with such interest?" queried Prince Iroh in a pleasant tone. Reflecting Ursa's own reaction, Dai blushed.

"Oh—nothing...just girl stuff, which I'm sure wouldn't interest Your Highness--but you are, of course, welcome to join us, if you wish."

"My aunt wants us to come visit her!" Ting Yan burst out, as though hoping the conversation would magically take a new turn.

"She does? How lovely." If the Crown Prince detected the look Ursa and Dai exchanged, he gave no sign.

"It is lovely, but I'm afraid we can't go," said Dai. "Ursa doesn't feel up to the trip, and we cannot simply leave her."

"I want them to go." interjected the future princess in a tentative, childlike voice, daring to gaze up at her brother-to-be.

Rescuing Ursa once again, he softly instructed, "Go visit your aunt, Ting Yan--and you as well, Dai. I swear on my honor as a prince that no harm shall come to our friend."

Self-consciously lowering her eyes, the almost-royal-bride wished she could think of a way to thank him.

"Family sticks together," the prince released his (future) sister, perhaps guessing her thoughts.

Too confused and ashamed to reply, Ursa kept her head down.

At last breaking the silence, Prince Iroh speculated, "I suppose we should begin gathering up and head back to the house; soon it will be getting dark."

As the girls followed to help him pack up their picnic, Ursa once again felt her eyes pulled half-unwillingly to her prince. Although distance had prevented him from overhearing their conversation, the royal appeared inwardly pleased about something. In cold and lonely determination, his princess accepted the new (second-rate, but safer) strategy that her friends had encouraged her to pursue.

_Very well, Prince Ozai. I'll fight you back._

_-_

* * *

_-_

A/N: You know, I'm not sure that Ursa was completely wise in choosing Dai's advice over Prince Iroh's...but we'll see about that. I enjoyed showing how Ursa's and Iroh's bond was deepening, though, even in the midst of all this angst. I liked writing that first scene, where they get to know eachother better.

Speaking of that scene and others, this chapter paints several very conflicting pictures of Ozai, doesn't it? Well, he's a complicated character ("or maybe...I'm good at confusing my poor readers" lol). I know this is getting more disturbing (if that's possible), but just hang in there with me, okay? ;) And keep in mind what the author's note said at the beginning of the first chapter.

I keep forgetting, so I want to mention that the idea of Ozai's "gilded cage," and Ursa being the key to it, came from a postwar Urzai fanfic called "Despising Pity" by WhisperToMeSoftly, and I recommend it. (While very realistic and also tender, however, it does get quite depressing, just to warn you...)

Question of the chapter: Did anyone notice the two references to Pirates of the Caribbean? (If you didn't, this probably seems kind of random.) They were both in lines said by Ozai, so anyway I'll be interested to see if anyone spotted them. If need be, I can tell you what they were in the next chapter's author's note.

On that note (so to speak--lol i sound like Prince Ozai writing in his "non-journal"), I'm not sure exactly how soon I'll get the next one done. Give me at least three weeks, tho; I know that's a long time (i feel so awesome saying that, since it used to take me months to update), but my next week is kinda busy.

Hope you liked this installment, and please review!


	7. Turning Point

By the time Ursa got up the next morning, Dai and Ting Yan had left on their all-day journey. With the girls' wing all to herself, the future princess used the rare silence to collect her thoughts, and prepare to employ her friends' proposed solution. Despite her lingering doubts, she was more than ready to alter her own destiny.

After breakfast, the young people headed for the beach. This way, Ursa would likely have more opportunity to claim the affections of her prince, while still under the protective wing of his brother. Although Prince Iroh's presence made the noblewoman feel braver, however, her boldness was offset by a touch of shame. So Ursa decided, although she had no wish to deceive the elder prince, that she would try to minimize her coy manipulations around him.

At the beach, the future princess found a place to sit on the sulfur sand while the boys determined among themselves that a game of fireball should commence. As the other two rounded up an opposing team, Prince Ozai abruptly flung off his beachrobe, revealing his muscular torso and startling both seagulls and a knot of squealing fangirls. Despite his show of carelessly ignoring the birds and the girls, Ursa saw the corners of his mouth smugly tilt. Getting an idea for her strategy, she too watched the prince admiringly, glancing demurely away only when she had made sure he noticed.

When the young men realized their team needed another player, Ursa saw their heads turn toward her. Knowing this might be her chance, the noblewoman pretended to become absorbed in the tiny shells scattered everywhere, her pulse pounding. Then a shadow fell over her, and Ursa waited for the voice she knew she would hear.

"Hey turtleduck--do you play fireball?"

Trying to look shy but flattered, she replied, "I haven't in a while, but my cousins used to play with me sometimes."

"Then I think it's about time someone else played with you." While remarkably good-natured for Prince Ozai, his tone brought out the double-edged meaning, and Ursa's blush became slightly more real.

Standing up and brushing off the sand, the noblewoman asked with a show of anxiety, "Is it very hard? I was never good at sports, you see..."

After looking at her curiously for a moment, the prince merely commented, "I should think any girl who'd punch royalty in the eye wouldn't have too much trouble with a game of fireball."

Inwardly smug that he was taking the bait, Ursa gave an embarrassed-sounding laugh.

"Oh, well--you just seem so good at it, and I was afraid I'd be outshone."

When they joined Prince Iroh and Zhao at the fireball net, Prince Ozai easily caught the ball that his friend tossed to him, and the two of them took the front places in their team formation.

Leaning on one hip, the younger prince turned back to his princess.

"This is new; I didn't know being outshone was a concern of yours. Would it have anything to do with your girltalk yesterday?"

"If it did, would I tell you?" queried Ursa, attempting a knowing smile.

"Good point," he conceded, almost seeming impressed by her daring renitency. "Here, Iroh, you serve."

"All right." Reaching up as his brother threw the ball to him, the firstborn plucked it out of midair, and nodded toward his future sister.

"Is Ursa going to play the back corner position?"

"I...suppose so," the noblewoman said with more uncertainty that she felt.

"But of course," Prince Iroh graciously acquiesced. Despite his pleasant tone, however, Ursa had the suspicion that he could see through her clever plan.

Startling her, Prince Ozai half-jokingly directed, "Don't worry about having your thoughts read by Iroh; he does that to me all the time." Then he turned away to study the opposition.

"Zhao, with any luck, we can kill this bunch."

"We're the deadly attack, as usual," the nobleman explained to Ursa, winking behind Prince Ozai's back.

Still facing the other team, the younger prince calmly threatened, "If you like your eyebrows unsinged, stop winking at my girl."

"Okay, man," Zhao surrendered. "Let's play."

"You ready, big brother?" asked Prince Ozai.

"I'm on it." Smiling now, Prince Iroh looked fiercer than usual, and Ursa thought she glimpsed the Dragon before whom armies fled and nations bowed.

"Let's destroy our opponents, then," the Phoenix concurred with the relaxed eagerness he showed any battle.

Then it started quickly, flying objects and moving bodies seemingly everywhere. In the midst of such a confusing blur, the noblewoman had her hands full just standing steady.

"Too intense for you?" It was impossible to tell whether Prince Ozai meant to be kind, mocking, or both.

"I can manage." A little out-of-breath, Ursa readied herself for the next attack.

Giving a wolfish half-grin, the second prince slid into the black sand as he banished the returning ball from their side of the net with a powerful kick.

"You can manage? That's what they all say when try to play in my game."

"I can play in your game just fine," Zhao told him, watching the other team scramble to ready their defense.

Coolly Prince Ozai picked himself up.

"Sure, but that's because I let you."

"You do realize the idea is to attack the other team, don't you?"

"Here it comes," Prince Iroh cautioned, cutting short his brother's witty reply as the ball whizzed back to them.

When it missed Ursa's head by inches, she drew in a sharp breath. Too late she remembered not to shy away from the ball, but the elder prince had already kicked it to Zhao, who launched it flying over the net. Like an oiled war machine, he and Prince Ozai ran their opponents ragged, the other team scrambling to keep the ball out of their territory. As it turned out, however, a couple of the opposing players made their team a less easy target than the younger prince had guessed, and after several minutes they were tied.

Hitherto useless, Ursa was determined to help somehow. So when the ball came sailing toward her, she ran up to kick it as firmly as she could. Although it didn't rise high enough, the Crown Prince ran forward to whack the ball into the midst of their opponents, who scattered like startled chickenpigs.

"Well, that was fun," said Prince Ozai, crossing his arms.

"I'll say," agreed Zhao. "Did you see the looks on their faces just now?"

"I did—they were pitiful."

Laughing good-naturedly with the others, Prince Iroh took the conversation in a new direction.

"Ursa did a good job helping to win that last point, though, didn't she?"

As his brother turned an enigmatic, thoughtful gaze on her, the noblewoman remembered she was supposed to be amplifying her natural self-consciousness. Lowering her eyes girlishly, Ursa tucked a strand of hair back into place.

Glancing away, the younger prince acceded, "Yeah, it was pretty neat. I never would have expected an aggressive shot like that from the shy girl I met at the party."

Saving Ursa from concocting a suitable response, Prince Iroh sighed, "As much as I'd love to hang out, there's a ton of paperwork I've been putting off this morning. See you later, then." With a friendly nod, he started inland.

Conversely, Zhao's interest took him in the opposite direction.

"Hey, Ozai, I think I'm gonna surf for a bit."

"You do that, Zhao. Keep improving your girl-impressing skills—they seriously need work."

Rolling his eyes, the young nobleman walked away.

Left to themselves, the future husband and wife stood in silence for a minute or two. Although she was nervous because of the last time they talked, and confused by his almost-friendliness during the game, Ursa gathered the courage to continue developing her new strategy. She had grown tired of being the victim.

When her nervously beating heart had slowed down, the noblewoman carefully formed an appropriate compliment.

"You were astounding, Prince Ozai; I've never seen anyone block an opposing team so quickly."

Despite his indifferent shrug, a tiny smirk gave him away.

"I appreciate your admiration, but it's just what comes of being a firebender, I guess. Not to mention that I'm naturally competitive."

She gave an airy laugh.

"So I've gathered."

"You're quite different from the last time we spoke," he remarked mildly. "It seems you've had a change of heart."

"Isn't it only natural for me to admire such a noble prince?" Upon realizing Ting Yan could have gushed the same praise, Ursa wondered if she'd gone overboard.

"Someone is studying the art of flattery," wryly observed said prince.

Feigning hurt (it felt so good to fake it instead of feeling it), she put a hand to her heart. "Are you saying I'm insincere?'

"I'm saying that I wouldn't have expected such a quick improvement in your attitude towards me."

"Well, maybe some of your arguments got through to me," Ursa quoted half-teasingly.

"Or maybe," Prince Ozai finished the reference, "You think actually think you can beat me at my own game."

Elegantly flustered as befit, the noblewoman reproached, "So you are accusing me of dishonesty."

"I'm not accusing you quite yet," the prince corrected her. "I just like to know when my future wife has her own agenda."

"It's only all right for you then, is it?" she asked pointedly.

Irony glinting in his fierce gaze, Prince Ozai darkly chuckled.

"It's survival of the fittest, Ursa, and I'm an expert at this game. Still, it is nice to see that you finally have a potentially useful strategy."

"And that would be...?"

"Someone encouraged you to switch tactics," he concluded. "You rely on other people far too much for advice and emotional support, so it wouldn't surprise me."

"And so we're all conspiring against you," she finished with a politely disbelieving smile.

"Everyone's conspiring against me," snorted the prince at her naivete. "I've gotten used to it. But even if you didn't have an accomplice, I don't think you'd suddenly want to snuggle up to me on your own."

"Didn't you tell me that you knew I found you attractive?" the noblewoman inquired, trying to mimic his aura of careless power.

"I did, but this isn't like you. I know your precious ideals far outrank your attraction to me, so you wouldn't simply discard them. Unless..." Intrigued, he thoughtfully continued, "Perhaps you've finally given up on such foolish notions, and you're ready accept my interest."

"Just as you said, I ought be flattered and grateful for it," Ursa pointed out. "I'm sure you've noticed how conscientious I am; you take such pride in inferring the thoughts of others."

"I have noticed that," Prince Ozai conceded. "But I've also noticed how often your heart leads you, and not your head."

"Perhaps it's leading me to you," she demurely suggested. "It would fit, since we both know I'm...attracted to you."

Decisively and without warning, he stated, "Your present infatuation is a lie."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm a good liar, Ursa," the prince reminded her. "I've been doing it for years. I always know."

Past the edge of caring, she laughed again, now emptily and reckless.

"Forgive me, but how can you be certain I haven't given up my beloved dreams?"

"Have you?"

In resigned, wistful humor, Ursa flicked away a mirthless tear.

"You say that as though I had a choice."

"You always had a choice." Objective and critical, the secondborn examined her. "Either submit to the life my father decided for us, or cling to your image of perfect romance, and suffer for it."

"In that case, I suppose you're glad I'm not clinging to my silly childhood wishes."

Forceful and bitter, he refuted her conjecture, almost speaking to himself.

"I never said you should have stopped fighting for them. Dreams, ideals, whatever is as important to you as honor: those are worth keeping free, even if doing so tortures you."

"But...you did say that," Ursa contradicted him, astounded. "Several times, in fact."

"Hmm. Maybe I'm not such a good liar," Prince Ozai speculated. "I'm forgetting which lies I've told."

Archly imperious, she inquired, "Then are you holding onto some form of freedom that causes you pain?"

"Would I tell you if I were?"

Completely into character now, the noblewoman no longer felt sure where her role ended.

"No, but perhaps I can guess, and return you the favor of reading intentions and desires so easily." Casually she stalked towards him, closing in her prey. "Just a few days ago, I was informed by a very reliable source that you sometimes refuse to like what you can't choose, even if you would have chosen it otherwise."

Unreadable and penetrating, his eyes searched her own.

"Tell me. What do you think I want?"

"Me," she asserted defiantly. "Don't bother denying it, my prince; your brother knows you better than you do yourself."

"So Iroh was your source."

Although his expression held no visible anger, Ursa readied her defense in advance.

"Yes, and he's on my side, so you should remember that I'm not unprepared."

Prince Ozai shook his head.

"And here I thought you were both such pacifists."

"You can't stay that way forever." Weary and disillusioned, Ursa dropped the elusively charming facade. "If you get hurt for long enough, you break."

"Agreed," the prince confirmed in grim humor. "So it's war, then?"

Affecting guileless startlement, the noblewoman stared at him.

"War?--why, whatever can you mean? You are my future husband, and I intend to fulfill my duty as your princess in every way, as completely as I can."

Taken aback, he queried, "So does that, by any chance, mean you've given in?"

"If you want to see it that way," she reasoned coyly, practicing her friend's advice. "But I trust my future brother-in-law, whatever you might think of him, and so I won't be fooled by your...delightful pretenses that you don't secretly want me." Never mind that she still couldn't place undoubting faith in Iroh's assurance; sometimes a lofty purpose required "less than noble" means.

Prince Ozai raised an eyebrow, assessing the enemy.

"You're getting aggressive, my turtleduck. What, then?--Are you planning to do the seducing?"

"I can, if you want me to." Wide-eyed in apparent innocence, the future princess moved closer to him. Then she spread her fingers against his sculpted, glistening chest, as though to claim her due despite the little girl act.

Catching her hand in his own, the prince studied her face intently.

"You're simply full of contradictions, Ursa. It makes figuring out your true purpose rather difficult."

"I only desire a marriage that isn't comprised of antagonism. I wish for you to think well of me, and so I'm seeking a compromise." Childlike and sorrowful, she gazed at him beneath long lashes.

"My approval is hard to win," Prince Ozai warned her, eyes narrowing. "Few succeed."

"It's like you say with honor: I have to try. And you're worth the effort," she assured him trustingly. Distantly astounded by her own boldness, Ursa laid her head against his muscled shoulder, right above his heart.

"I am?" challenged the prince, slowly running a hand through her silken tresses. "I'd hope so for your sake, because what I think you're actually trying to win is even harder."

"And what might that be?" the future princess queried in a soft, persuasive tone.

"My heart," he murmured, playfully aloof.

"Yes," she answered, just as tenderly possessive. "I _want _your heart." So close below her cheek, Ursa could feel it beating far too quickly, betraying what its owner tried so hard to conceal.

Stonily he denied her own ears.

"Then you're in for a long, thankless battle."

In reproachful surprise, the noblewoman looked up.

"Do you think me incapable of winning your love?"

Stroking her cheek, the royal gently taunted, "There's no point trying to win what doesn't exist."

In the arms of her cold, smiling phantom, unbreakable steel claimed her own resolve.

"Heart or no, you will be mine, Prince Ozai." Like a pouting child, Ursa wanted her own prince—the one from the banquet, not this ghastly replica—with desperate, senseless passion, and the rest of the world could fall to ruin if only he would come back to her.

"And you're mine, princess." Whether in triumph or ferocity, the pantherwolf bared his grinning fangs.

When she leaned her cheek against him once more in sulking silence, the prince lightly consoled, "Just wait until the next round, all right? Once your title changes, we'll both have a ton of new weapons to play with."

Stubborn, almost petulant, the noblewoman insisted, "I'm not giving up."

"Neither am I." He paused, and she heard his heart racing despite the collected, calculating tone. "I must say, this will be an interesting marriage, if we're alternately seducing and destroying one another. Sounds like fun."

All at once losing interest, Ursa pushed away from him. In her now merciless, goal-focused state of mind, Prince Ozai presented no use if he eluded her further control.

Half-mockingly she promised, "I won't be destroying you, lord prince. That would go against both obtaining your love and fulfilling my duty."

Still just as much predator as prey, he smiled dangerously.

"How lucky I am to have such a dutiful princess."

"And a loyal one at that," Ursa told him sweetly, bowing in submission. Deliberately she turned her back on him, and called a carefree greeting to the friend she had just seen arriving.

"Piandao! How nice to see you!"

With detached amusement instead of the jealousy she'd expected, Prince Ozai spoke in the noblewoman's ear as he passed by.

"Have fun with all your playthings, turtleduck."

Pleased that his remark no longer even stung, she concentrated on enjoying herself with the apprentice swordsman.

Appearing strangely troubled, Piandao replied, "It's nice to see you too, Ursa. Was that Prince Ozai, just now?"

"Oh, yes, it was," she confirmed off-handedly.

"Did he do anything...unpleasant?"

"Well, yes, but you know how he is..." Brightly Ursa continued, "Actually, I've started making an effort to close the breach between us."

"I did notice you were standing rather close to him." Although he gave an apologetic laugh, concern still lingered in his eyes.

Blushing that he'd seen it, she explained, "You see, for someone like our lofty prince, there are a limited number of ways in which one may...persuade him that his is not the only wisdom."

Less frightening but more effective, Piandao inadvertently mimicked Prince Ozai's shrewd sideways glance, slightly lifting his eyebrows at Ursa.

"You weren't..flirting with him, were you?"

After blinking at him, the noblewoman questioned, "Why should I not? He's my future husband."

"You're right, of course," he acceded quickly, "and I don't mean to intrude, but...I guess it just seemed strange to—forgive me—see you standing next to him just now, since I wasn't aware he wished to be...close to you."

A little uncomfortable, the princess-to-be defended herself.

"The truth is, I think he does like me; I'm just trying to make him admit it, since he's so stubborn and proud."

As Piandao looked at her sadly, guilt pricked Ursa once again.

"So you've started fighting his way?"

"I don't know what else I can do," she protested. "You can't just wait around if your dreams don't work out."

"Ursa, you're so...such a...wonderful person, with beautiful ideals," Piandao maintained sincerely. "I'd hate to see you give them up, and sell yourself short to someone who doesn't realize your true worth."

Torn between awkwardness and dissatisfaction, the noblewoman looked away moodily.

"I've already been sold, so to speak. I'm his bride-to-be, although neither of us like it."

Hesitating briefly, the apprentice swordsman asked, "Did I ever tell you that I was adopted by my present family? I grew up in an orphanage; my parents couldn't bear to keep their only nonbending child. During that time, I worked hard to master the sword, just to prove I wasn't useless—that I could still fight."

Angrily he continued, "Listen: from what I've gathered, it's hard on Prince Ozai to be the second son, always a step behind the Crown Prince. But you tell him that he can't let that rule his life. You have to make something of yourself, for yourself, no matter what other people think of you."

For some reason, hot tears stung Ursa's eyes, and she didn't trust herself to speak. Seeming to notice, Piandao looked regretful.

"I'm sorry. I get worked up, sometimes. What I wanted to tell you, though, is that when I was twelve, my mother and father adopted me. Living with them has shown me that I don't have to prove my worth, or conform to anyone's standards but my own. Someone's value doesn't hinge on their abilities—it's who they are that counts. I just...wanted you to know that."

Like shattered glass, the fragments of Ursa's darkly cunning illusion spun away into cold reality. As Piandao's troubled, honest gaze released and condemned her (so much like Prince Iroh), the future princess clearly perceived the cold, alluring siren she had become in those moments with her prince, losing herself in heartless desire. Internally staring transfixed as guilty crimson stained her, the phantom's shadowy bride raised a hand to her mouth in horror.

"Forgive me; I must go."

"Ursa--are you all right?" her friend called in concern, but did not trouble her by following.

Racing towards the house, she gave no answer.

-

* * *

-

That was downright fascinating. Did Ursa really mean what she threatened, about somehow wooing me with jealous meekness? It's funny; the more confident and assertive she becomes, the less minuscule a chance she has of winning. Although I never enjoy surrendering, I put up with it for a worthy (strong) opponent. Not that Ursa is, but even so...compared to last time, she was a completely different girl. Perhaps she's still fighting for her ideals, but in my own style of war. She even flirted with me. I mean, really flirted.

Needless to say, I don't buy her "dutiful wife" story. Obviously someone encouraged her to bring out the bad girl, and that bit of wise counsel doesn't sound quite like my saintly elder brother. I know he said something to her—hence the declaration that I apparently want that girl despite every appearance to the contrary. (There Iroh goes again, making my thought life a public exhibition...)

Who advised her, then? The other girls, perhaps? I did see them plotting something yesterday, and I wouldn't put it past the depressing one. Behind their proper, ladylike manners, noblewomen (most of them, anyway) scheme and connive almost worse than the men. I doubt the bored girl, unlike my princess and the featherbrain, is any exception.

After this morning, though, I'm not so sure that my princess is an exception. I have to think, to scheme up a retaliation plan of my own...but I keep getting distracted by the feel of her hand against my skin, her head over my heart (which irritatingly started racing as though I were an awkward schoolboy). I guess that just proves how useless that organ is, particularly in the metaphorical sense. I can't let it deter me from doing what I must.

I am looking forward to whatever Ursa's planning—that much I can't deny. But I don't foresee her succeeding, of course. I can't figure her out, though; does she intend to win my love by showing me hers? How could gentleness conquer me, or enslave my dysfunctional heart?

Desperate, silly girl. She's going to unwittingly become _my_ slave if she keeps trying to allure me like this. I'll end up unable to bear allowing her any freedom at all. Still, it seems that her childlike trustfulness is slowly darkening into that new, scary side of her that I saw...well, experienced...this morning. It's like pain turning to anger (which pain does, I've found), and hardening into the will to fight back. I seriously messed her up, didn't I? Before, she was such a happy little dreamer.

Darling, I'm afraid your bubble's got to burst sometime. That's life, providing one isn't the nation's most beloved hero, not to mention Father's--

That's beside the point. Since none of us are Iroh (except, well, Iroh), Ursa may as well get used to black-and-white reality. She isn't alone; I'm becoming darker, more cynical, too. Rage has matured into cunning, so that now I can actually enjoy a bondage that I used to hate.

Am I cruel? I don't mean to be. At least, when people used to accuse me of that, it was because they didn't like my methods of fulfilling justice. If someone has committed a crime, they deserve to be punished, not forgiven. The poets and sages extol the wonders of mercy, but you can hardly call it fair.

Now, however, I will confess that justice has little to do with my supposed cruelty. Actually, it does, but I'm punishing the innocent for another's "crime," if you will. But Ursa isn't completely blameless, you know. Somehow she stole my heart (if I have one), when Father's decision usurped the blessing that might have been meant for me.

She's still unrepentantly beguiling me, although it's only recently intentional.

Well, my love, I guess our cruel, sophisticated games will continue, each heart thirsting for the blood of its other half.

-

* * *

-

Heart pounding, she flew through the dim hallways to her own room. Impressions flickered through her mind like candleflames--so many faces.

Piandao's quiet worry. Prince Ozai's keen fascination. Prince Iroh's gentle disappointment.

Enemies or friends, she had betrayed them all. Slamming the door behind her, Ursa sank down against it, her shoulders shaking.

After suffering so long, she had wanted to escape the agony and grey darkness, no matter what it took. In that moment when sanity crumbled before longing, the future princess would have snatched her dream back at any cost. Unfeeling, cold and determined, she had become willing to manipulate another human being in previously unthinkable ways. Successful or not, Ursa had intended to play with his affections, to prey on his weakness, paying back the--

She gasped.

_I'm turning into him._

A fine wife she would make him, if she'd stop at nothing to--

Then she did stop, as another thought hit her. Maybe it wasn't so unfair that she had to marry a man who despised her. Perhaps the spirits had known Ursa would eventually surrender to her darkest instincts, and chose this as a fitting punishment. Had she acted disobediently in clinging to her rose-tinged ideals, instead of submitting fully to the will of the Fire Lord and of her prince?

Stumbling across to her bed, she sank down onto it, and wondered if treason ran in the family after all. In a way, then, Ursa shared more similarity with her future husband than either would have dreamed: they both yearned for what they could never have. In divine recompense, therefore, desire and hatred had supplanted romance.

_We really are perfect for each other._

With that despairing, bitter resignation, some broken shard of her old self, the serenely wistful dreamer, cried out for lost innocence, romantic fantasies, a happy fairytale. Above all (though she wouldn't have expected this), she mourned the enigmatic, beguiling Prince Ozai she had first seen, and had grown to love.

Still loved.

Without question it counted as a loss; that gentler part of him, whether real or not, wasn't coming back (let's be realistic). The courteous, enchanting prince didn't exist (any more)--she had fallen in love with a shadow, a ghost. The real Prince Ozai only mocked that.

But she--

--couldn't help noticing how beautiful, noble and proud he was, even now—the real, cruel prince.

A golden gaze, branded into her soul. An amused half-smile, tenderly ripping her apart. A deep, silken voice crooning possession by her ear. Slender hands gracefully catching her wrist, pausing at her fluttering throat...

The pantherwolf had trapped his prey irrevocably. The battle had been lost before it began. She adored every bit of what he was: the ruthless angel, the beautiful demon.

So her terrible premonition had come to pass, after all; her heart had already enslaved her to a dreamlike nightmare, and to a memory she might have called, "Beloved."

He could burn her to ashes, or tear jagged, dripping holes in her innermost being, and the chains of devotion would still bind her. When she bled, her veins would be weeping more acutely for his stubborn misery than her own torment. And even as the blood leaked out of her like tears, every drop would belong to him.

_Agni, have mercy!_

There would be none; not for a jealous prince and a traitor's grand-daughter. And she would be dying all her life--not for dread of her own condemnation, but out of despair for his.

The Phoenix would fall, and her heart would blaze on his deathpyre.

Ursa cried herself to sleep.

-

* * *

-

Did you know that we have a ghost? Apparently Lady Ilah's spirit still haunts her chambers. I overheard the servants fearfully whispering that they keep finding the bedclothes wrinkled, and possessions moved on Her Ladyship's dressing table--despite the absolute abandonment of that room (by anyone besides themselves) almost since she died.

Poor servingmaids--they sounded terrified. This is hilarious: I've already been elevated to spirit status (being that room's other trespasser), and I'm not even dead yet. (Or maybe someone thinks I should be.) Well, that's...fine...

Ah, well. There is a reason I lost my train of thought, I'll have you know. That ghost business was my only amusement for this afternoon, because...

Yes! It's her again—you guessed it. I can't believe myself. My head won't stop replaying our little confrontation this morning, especially the sensory (and sensual) aspects of it. But it isn't just my attraction to that girl that keeps bugging me. I actually feel...this is going to sound insane..._guilty_ for hurting her so much.

Indeed--me! Why can't I be normal (for me, that is), and continue to subsist without an actual conscience (my sense of honor aside)?

What have you done to me, Ursa? I went to hear your golden laughter, watch your summery smile—to capture them only for me. I can't fully suppress that desire, not even by my fascination with your angry tears.

Listen to me! I sound like a love poet, writing to some maiden with cherry blossom skin (bad thought—because hers is about that pale, now that I think of it). I guess it's good to get these thoughts onto paper and out of my system, because I'm certainly not going to express them to her. If I did that...

I'd lose. To Iroh (his benevolent desire, anyway).

Again.

No! I won't give up; that would be admitting defeat, which I never do willingly. For that matter, if I stopped fighting, I might lose Ursa's dangerous side before she fully reveals it. I am looking forward to our amusingly violent marriage; my...more subversive thoughts don't change that.

Still, I think it's her dangerous side that's doing me in this time. I don't know--maybe I should back off and regroup for a little while, till I get used to it. And maybe I could claim all of Ursa's moods that intrigue me, although it will demand all my powers of manipulation to keep her in such imbalance.

Well, I always did like a challenge. Sure, I realize that would be altering my original plan still further--but I think, as long as I'm in charge (instead of her, or more importantly, my "heart")...

And on top of all this, it's raining. Zhao's writing another mandatory letter and reading some military texts he should have studied long ago, so he's not available for sparring or any such diversion. Of course, we can't spar with the weather like this, and I don't feel like it anyway. My mood is rather glum and grey right now; I doubt even Dai could make me more depressed. At least she isn't here today—although she would be an excuse to keep _that girl_ away from me.

Maybe in a minute I'll go bug Iroh (that is, if he's not holed up with more Crown Prince secrets). Right now he's the safer of my two opponents, surprisingly. As for the other, I guess I won't just burn the helplessly flame-lured butterflymoth; I will catch hold of her glittering wings for my own selfish delight. I know they say that if you love something, then let it fly free, but that (like many of Iroh's sayings) is stupid advice. Isn't it common sense to chase after what (and whom) you desire?

Besides, I don't really love her (that's kind of the point).

Agni, will there be no mercy?

You don't have to bother answering, Great Sun Spirit; I already know there won't. There never has been.

Not for me.

-

* * *

-

When Ursa woke, the late afternoon had clouded over with an unseasonal summer storm, bathing the world in a grey half-light as the rain whispered against the tiled roof. Her mood echoing the sky, the noblewoman rose and drearily thought over her dilemma one more time. Obviously her alternate plan had failed (or if it succeeded, had done so at too great a cost), and she wondered whether it had really been preferable to Prince Iroh's--

All roads led back to him. The spirits were forcing Ursa to accept his wisdom: she had no other choice.

And she was tired of feeling guilty around her best ally and dear friend. Forlornly she resolved to tell him, then, and accept whatever help he gave (if he could forgive her for rejecting it before). Too deep in melancholy to feel very afraid, she wandered through the house towards the elder prince's room.

On the way through the boys' wing, Ursa heard voices, and looked in a doorway to see both of the Fire Lord's sons in a small sitting room, playing a board game at a low table.

"All right, big brother. You win. Again."

"You're getting better, Ozai. I'm sure, with practice--"

"Like I'd waste my time seeking mastery in Pai Sho!"

After a slightly tense pause, they noticed Ursa watching them in the doorway.

Rhetorically Prince Ozai questioned, "Why do you always show up just when I'm getting beaten by Iroh?"

_The Phoenix would fall. There would be no escape._

"What can we do for you, Ursa?" the elder prince offered kindly, chasing away her dark forebodings (and ignoring an aggravated glance from his brother at the use of "we").

"Oh—I...that is, you see..." Despite her resolve (and her heart's terrible, wondrous burden), the noblewoman didn't feel ready to spill out her aching secrets in front of her own prince as well as the firstborn.

Apparently detecting this with his usual uncanny perception, the Crown Prince suggested, "Why don't you join me for a game of Pai Sho?"

"You'll lose," his brother informed her in a bored tone.

"I would like that, thank you," she answered Prince Iroh. Despite Prince Ozai's presence, Ursa knew she had to stop running from her only savior. Providing the younger prince didn't leave during the game, she would ask afterwards to speak privately with the elder.

"Wonderful!" exclaimed Prince Iroh. "Do you know how to play?"

"A little. My father used to play it with me."

Stroking his beard thoughtfully, the Crown Prince observed, "I always thought he was a wise man. In that case, let's see how much you remember."

"This should be interesting." His tone suspiciously free tone of sarcasm, the second prince vacated the near side of the table. Brooding and aloof, he sprawled on a couch by the window to watch them.

Ursa took his place, doing her best to concentrate on her opponent and teacher instead of all the conflicting emotions burning within her.

After briefly refreshing her memory, Prince Iroh concluded, "I know the first move can be difficult for beginners, so shall I start?"

"Yes, please," she accepted.

For the next few moves, Ursa raised questions and asked her teacher's advice (she should have done it all along), and he in turn made suggestions and explained his own strategy.

"Stop helping her, Iroh," Prince Ozai abruptly directed.

"If I don't help, she won't learn," his brother countered peaceably, but had she imagined a flash deep within his calm gaze?

"She won't if you do it all for her, either," the younger prince argued logically. "Let her play on her own."

_I'm tired of playing on my own,_ thought Ursa wearily as she took her turn.

"Why do you care so much if she learns how to play?" Prince Iroh queried mildly. "You've never liked this game."

As though he had been caught, Prince Ozai looked away from them, quickly making it clear that the game was beneath his notice.

"I don't. But the fact remains that she's making the wrong move."

"I am?" asked Ursa.

"I made that move last time, and paid for it," he replied, sounding disinterested once more.

As though to dispel any hard feelings, Prince Iroh explained, "That move perhaps wasn't wisest, but you only lost because--"

"Do you want me to help you or not?" interrupted Prince Ozai, rising from the couch like a creature from the depths. When Ursa's shock drove coherency, as usual, from her mind, he drove his point home.

"Look, with either of us alone, wining against my brother is pretty much hopeless, but together..." Only on the last word did a hint of his usual suggestive self-assurance return, hitherto curiously absent.

Since that morning, a lot had changed, but the noblewoman still wished to end the discord (and now she...loved her prince). Self-conscious for many reasons, Ursa cautiously decided to test his helpful side.

"...Very well. Help me if you wish."

"Right, then." Suddenly business-like, he sat down beside her. "To start with, you can't put your ripening-plum tile on that square."

"Why not?"

"Because then Iroh will be able to capture it with his white lotus tile."

Benignly the elder prince commented, "I'm happy to see you paid attention, little brother."

Casting him a withering glance, Prince Ozai continued, "So instead, the obvious choice is moving it here."

"But...if I move it there, I won't be in the brown triangle on his side."

"Would you rather lose a tile?" the second prince asked impatiently.

"Wait a minute, you two," interceded Prince Iroh. "You both have a point, but in this case, you might employ the full moon tile."

"Let's take his advice," the noblewoman suggested reasonably, pushing aside both her growing irritation and lovelorn turmoil.

"Oh, sure, let him just hand the victory to us," Prince Ozai retorted acidly.

Finding it harder now to restrain her aggravation, Ursa pointed out, "I'm not very good at this game, and it seems obvious you aren't either, so let's--"

"If you'd listen to me, we'd finally beat him!" In frustration he demanded, "Don't you want to win?'

"I want to play this game with Prince Iroh!"

"Fine. You and Brother Dear enjoy your Pai Sho and poetic nonsense," fumed the younger prince, storming out of the room like a black thundercloud.

-

* * *

-

Why is this happening? All my painstakingly constructed battleplans, all my impassable, heartless defenses--they're falling apart! I can't even think of a sarcastic remark about it--that's how messed up I am.

Blazes, I've got to stay away from her! We weren't even flirting just now (much), but even then, it didn't matter... She's gotten to me again...

On the way here, I stopped at the family shrine; I've lit about fifty thousand incense sticks to the spirits, in hopes that maybe one will grant--

Spirits.

Mother? Are you angry with me, for letting them believe I was you? Is it your revenge that's ensuring my perpetual failure? I'm sorry, all right? I...

I couldn't help it that you died because I was born. Why should I even care? You abandoned me to a silly, emotional brother who smothered me with hugs and tea, and a father who--

Never mind. Poor Father; it's really a shame, losing his beautiful, gracious Fire Lady in exchange for a second-rate younger son.

You know what?

I'm losing my mind.

-

* * *

-

When at last Prince Ozai left them in peace, Ursa's relief was joined by guilt, confusion,and even regret for his absence.

"Are you alright?" her companion inquired.

"I'm sorry, Prince Iroh," she excused herself. "I..suddenly don't feel like playing."

"That's more than understandable," the prince affirmed. "My brother has quite a temper. But don't let him get to you. Ozai has always been more irritable on rainy days...if possible, that is," he acknowledged with a faint twinkle in his eye.

When startled, self-conscious laughter bubbled up from within the future princess, it released all the anguished tension tightly wound up inside her. With sudden, desperate clarity of purpose, she leaned forward.

"I need to talk to you."

Giving Ursa his absolute attention, the royal laid aside his jovial humor and became again the wise, compassionate Crown Prince.

"What is it, little sister?"

"I...took Dai's advice instead of yours. I shouldn't have—I know that now." With such an urgent need to confess, her explanation came out all garbled.

"Tell me," he encouraged simply.

With the wound reopened, another confession came spilling out, but now the poison drained along with the blood. At the end, she felt exhausted, but almost at peace.

"And now, I don't know what to do. I feel like I've...betrayed you. Are you angry with me?"

"I was never angry with you," Prince Iroh hoarsely reassured her. "I was sad because you were suffering all alone, and had lost your way in the midst of it. But now..." Appearing relieved as she felt, he smiled gently. "It seems you are close to finding it again."

"Am I?" she asked helplessly, self-conscious but curious.

With acute, devastating tenderness, the prince held her clouded gaze in his own.

"Ursa. I know you are afraid, and I realize it won't be easy, but I still believe that showing kindness to Ozai is the best way to melt his cold heart. Will you trust me?'

Searched by those gentle, penetrating eyes of dark amber, Ursa wondered how anyone could not trust the Crown Prince--and how she could have refused him anything in the world, no matter the cost.

Surrendering all her doubts and fears (because none of them mattered, any more), she obeyed him in a steady, childlike tone.

"Yes, Prince Iroh. I trust you."

Quickly the royal hid his face in his hands, creating slight worry in Ursa.

"Sir? Are you...?"

"I'm all right--or I will be, now." His voice breaking, Prince Iroh wiped his eyes and smiled apologetically at her. "It's hard on an older brother when both his little siblings are hurting so deeply."

With her concern assuaged, the future princess discovered a thought that refused to stay behind in her heart's shadows, now that she had accepted it through submitting to his request.

"I'm in love with him," Ursa whispered. Now the realization bore not despair, but hesitant joy.

"Your brother," she clarified at her companion's pleased interest. Overwhelmed by everything, she gave a tentative laugh. "I couldn't stop it, no matter what he did to me, or what I thought I wanted. It just...came."

A warm, glorious light shining in his eyes, Prince Iroh took her hand in his own.

"Ursa, that's what love is like. You can't stop it, though sometimes you might wish you could."

"I don't wish that." As soon as she uttered it, the noblewoman recognized it was true. "I don't want to love anyone besides him." While still poignant, this desire now pierced her with unbearable sweetness.

"Congratulations, my sister," the Crown Prince told her in grave blessing, as glimmering rain once more threatened to obscure the amber sunshine. "I wish you all the happiness in the world."

Soaking in that unquenchable summer glow, for the first time Ursa dared to rekindle her dream of a fairytale ending.

"Thank you, Prince Iroh."

For a moment (or a century) longer, shared happiness enfolded the two; then the prince relinquished them both to the everyday world (suddenly not quite so ordinary).

"Well, then; may I invite you to continue our game, my dear future sister-in-law?"

No longer miserable at the thought of her promised relationship to Prince Ozai, Ursa blushed shyly.

"Yes, my future brother-in-law. I would like that."

-

* * *

-

After they finished the Pai Sho game (which the Crown Prince won, as was only right and natural), Ursa returned to the main part of the house from the boys' wing, and met Prince Ozai coming the other way. As he strode past without a second glance, she couldn't help turning back to watch him go.

At the same time, he too halted. Slowly he looked back at her, with a strange, restless emotion tossing in the stormy gold, like monsoon-frenzied waves. For an eternity their eyes locked together.

Then his widened, and the younger prince turned swiftly to continue down the hall, as though to flee whatever ghost haunted him. Without Prince Iroh's comforting aura, Ursa no longer remained quite immune to uncertainty, and dread of further suffering. Nonetheless, tender, unfamiliar feelings stirred in the noblewoman's own heart as she gazed after the prince.

With a sigh for once not borne of heartache, Ursa came back to her room until suppertime.

-

* * *

-

Aaagh!

She's killing me! I'm going insane! I--

I passed Ursa in the hall just now. Although I fully realized it was a stupidest thing I could have done, of course I just had to spinelessly turn back to look at her one more time. It just shows what a weak and idiotic failure I am, but...let's be realistic. I don't know how much longer I can keep fighting. I've been losing for a long time.

She looked back at me in that same instant; we stared at each other for what felt like forever.

Agni, how I wanted to make those glistening, almond eyes shine just for me.

-

* * *

-

A/N: Yes! You may cheer if you wish, my fellow Urzai shippers. (Of course, it might be a little premature, but we shippers were never famous for being logical. ;) )

Dedicated to TrueThinker, my faithful reviewer and fellow Ozai fangirl (who dedicated a chapter of her young Ozai fic to me). Yep, we do have to stick together, and I'm honored to be in such good company. :) (Or should I say "bad," considering Sokka's remark in NMDD...? lol)

You know, it's funny--when I first started realizing that I was involuntarily becoming an Ozai fangirl, I pretty much had the same reaction as he did to falling in love with Ursa in this fic. ("What? No! I will not swoon over Zuko's evil father!") And obviously, I lost...so in a way this could be called payback time. lol But look how happy I am now, despite my initial protests against those treacherous internal butterflies. Assuming the fic continues this way, he'll doubtless thank me later. (I do feel sorry for him, tho--trying so hard to fight against the heart he "never wanted and doesn't have," as my friend might say.)

I've been planning the afternoon scenes (from Ursa's POV) for a long time--they were some of the key moments in the fic that I knew about early. I also knew well in advance that the servants were going to think Ilah's chambers were haunted, when really it was her second son (who was greatly amused by this, in his morbid way). Speaking of which, i like how the first line "Did you know we have a ghost?" fits so well (in a somewhat humerous way) with the previous part. Because that's kind of like what Ursa's becoming, or envisioning herself becoming...

There were a lot of parallels in this chapter (particularly between Ursa and Ozai), like in the love-realization scenes for example. By the way, I loved how Ursa's came out--when we finally know (and she realizes) that she's in love with him. -happy shipper sigh- There were a lot of references to The Beach, too (and we're not done). I hope you were amused by the "beachrobe and seagulls" moment with Prince Ozai, as well as the "Well that was fun" comment after the game (cool--i found out i can write excitingly about a sport). We do know that he's where Zuko gets it, because in Sozin's Comet, Ozai does the flinging-off-robe thing with his Phoenix robes on the gondola when he sees Aang. lol

Another parallel was how Ursa felt like she had betrayed Iroh (as did Zuko), and Iroh said (quoting himself in Sozin's Comet--well, paraphrasing), "I was never angry with you. I was sad because" etc. Yeah, I liked that comparison. :) The part where Ursa finally agreed to his plan kind of reminded me of Much Afraid and the Great Shepherd, if you've read Hinds' Feet on High Places.

As for the pai sho game...don't ask. I looked at screen caps, but that was all i had to go on. So i bluffed, as a good fanfic writer often does i guess.

The idea about Ursa kind of stealing Ozai's heart before he really knew he had one is an idea that came from Despising Pity by WhisperToMeSoftly. I'm just kind of exploring it.

I guess the question of the chapter will be: what did you think about the beach scene (the fun part--fireball game, etc--that referenced the show a lot)?

Hope you enjoyed, and please review! I'll try to update soon.


	8. Dust, Sand, and Lights

The next morning, Ursa rose early. Worn out from their all-day journey, Dai and Ting Yan were still asleep, and so the noblewoman explored the house by herself. In a content, expectant mood, she climbed the stairs and wandered through the unfamiliar halls on the second floor. She realized she was waiting for _something—_she could not tell what—that would bring an answer to yesterday's events, and perhaps a new beginning.

Turning a corner, Ursa came to a long corridor hung along one wall with a series of massive portraits. Curious about the royal family's veiled, shadowy past, she stopped to look at them.

In the first painting, two children occupied an ornate, throne-like chair. A chubby toddler perched on the lap of an older boy, whose arms protectively encircled him. Staring wide-eyed at the viewer, they were obviously trying hard to appear noble and princely, but their differences shone through. As the elder gave Ursa a shy, warm smile, his amber eyes blessed her with a compassion that she wouldn't have expected in one so young. At a still more tender age, the littler prince caught her with his sun-colored eyes, and they pierced her own despite the lingering baby fat.

While the setting had not changed in the next portrait, a golden-eyed child now stood beside a teenager. Majestic beyond his years in the ornamented throne, the older boy gazed at the noblewoman with eyes of amber sunshine. A hand resting on the arm of his brother's chair, the not-quite-so-little one clearly modeled his regal, erect pose after the elder, with pride and admiration shining out fiercely in his innocent, fiery stare. A strange tenderness stirring in Ursa, she wondered what had become of that young boy. She moved on.

Slouching beside the chair of a handsome, friendly young man, a gawky adolescent stared moodily towards the future princess. No longer imitating the elder son, he smoldered quietly in the shadows, with an angry set to his mouth. Perceiving for herself the resentful, unseen prince, Ursa hurried on, eager to know the story's end.

By the next painting, however, sophisticated charm concealed everything. Unreachable and faintly amused, Prince Ozai trapped her in that familiar burning gaze. Behind his brother's chair, the secondborn leaned one arm on the back of it, effortlessly veiling whatever he truly felt toward the nation's beloved Crown Prince. Aloof and graciously condescending, the two Fire Princes kept their own secrets.

Amidst her confusion, love, and a strange new longing, Ursa resolved again to melt away that glittering, unbreakable shell, just as Prince Iroh had encouraged. To calm her nerves at the prospect, she recalled a childhood memory of her own.

_Caught up in the stories of Grandfather, a little girl played in her family's garden, bending all four elements (even air, from the ghost nation), and balancing the world. Her game was especially useful in moments of fright, such as the appearance of a creeping insect. The child would declare, "I am Avatar Ursa, and nothing can make me afraid."_

For the sake of restoring balance in the heart of her proud Phoenix, Ursa once again took up that serene self-confidence, compassionate and remote. In this new frame of mind, she made her way to the end of the hall, which opened into yet another sitting room.

Here the furnishings produced a rich yet intimate feel, and she slowly crossed towards an elegant couch that faced away from her. Without glancing at it as she passed, Ursa went to gaze down at the hilly meadows from the window on the far wall.

"I didn't expect to see you here," said a well known voice behind her.

Surprised and flustered, at first the noblewoman didn't pay attention to the unfamiliar tone. Before turning around, she reminded herself that nothing could intimidate the Avatar—and at present, duty called her to help a...misguided spirit (she couldn't allot him any lower status), who needed her guidance but could present no danger.

An instant later, her love-honed ears registered how weary and careworn that voice sounded, and she turned around to look at its owner.

His clothing rumpled and untidy, the "misguided spirit" had evidently thrown himself on the couch, one hand absently tangling in his disheveled hair. Even paler than usual, he had drawn his brows together in haggard conflict, with dark circles under his eyes.

"Hello, Prince Ozai," Ursa tentatively greeted him. "I must confess I didn't expect to see you either."

"Nothing happens like you expect it too, these days." After giving a strangled attempt at his usual sardonic chuckle, the prince seemed to stare through her with haunted, turbulent eyes.

Dully he revealed, "You're killing me, you know that?"

Her first, unhesitating reaction sprang from sympathy.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to."

His eyebrows lifted ever so slightly in disbelief.

"Then what was it you meant, yesterday morning?"

With a twinge of shame, Ursa lowered her gaze.

"Something I should not have. I could go, if you wish..."

"No!" Something like desperation flickered across his face. Even when it passed, the urgency remained.

"I mean...stay with me."

"Stay with you?" she echoed in puzzlement, fearing that if she startled him, this uneasy, almost vulnerable Prince Ozai would disappear behind the darkly enchanting mask.

"Yes—stay with me," he persisted earnestly. Sitting up, the royal took her arm, and drew the noblewoman down to sit facing him. Almost childlike in intensity and bewilderment, his restless gaze searched her own as for an answer, and Ursa sat very still to let him find it. Remembering the forthright, unashamed young prince in the portrait, the future princess wondered if she could rescue that child from the ashes of his own future.

"How, turtleduck?" the prince asked softly, almost begging understand. "How did you--"

Slowly he appeared to come back to himself, as from a dream. Shaking his head as though to clear away his demons, Prince Ozai let go of her and moved away.

"Forgive me, Ursa." Grimacing with the effort, he leaned forward and rose to his feet. "I am not myself today."

Already missing the guileless confusion, she looked for remnants of it in his careworn face.

"Please don't apologize."

As at an inside joke, his lips curved in the ghost of a smile.

"You too? What happened to that dangerous girl who wanted my heart?"

"I was...not myself."

"Is that so?" Although a shadow of regret passed over him, the prince let the matter drop. "Come—there's something I want to show you."

"Very well." Putting her hand in his own, Ursa let him pull her up.

In silence he led her out of the room and down another hall. Stopping at an elaborately carven door, Prince Ozai pressed a hand against the polished wood, and it swung noiselessly open.

Beyond it lay the chamber of a great Lady. On the curving, graceful dressing table and writing desk, personal items had been set down at random, as if their owner might return to use them at any moment. Hung with deep red curtains, a great canopied bed stood in one corner, and the silken hangings slightly billowed and whispered as in a draft. Through the latticed window, a shaft of pale golden sunlight fell to illuminate the soft, ornamental rug, as dust motes dreamily floated in the light.

Utterly still and quiet, the room exuded an eerie, hallowed peacefulness. As the feeling seeped into Ursa, it gave her the sense that she and Prince Ozai had stepped into another world, where the cares of everyday life became unreal and distant.

"This was my mother's room," the prince told her quietly.

"It's lovely." As in a shrine, the noblewoman spoke in a hushed voice.

"The servants think her spirit still lingers here."

"Does she?" In this (presumably) deserted chamber, anything seemed possible.

"I don't know. She might." Again he looked subdued, perhaps by thoughts of Lady Ilah. (But then, was it Ursa, "killing" his fiery spirit? For that matter, was breaking that noble pride the only way to reach beyond it?)

"Perhaps your mother wants to stay here, and keep watching over her family," mused the future princess.

Prince Ozai considered, and replied with unassuming frankness.

"That's a nice idea, that she has benign intentions." Before Ursa could query further, he walked leisurely towards the writing desk, and the noblewoman followed.

Amidst the quills and neat stacks of paper, a set of brushes and pigment jars waited for the touch of a long-ago hand. A fellow artist, the future princess delighted in sharing an interest with the Fire Lady.

"Did your mother paint?"

"That's what they tell me."

"These are nice brushes," Ursa admired them, afraid the silence would swallow up their fragile mortality if she didn't make conversation.

"Some of her paintings are in here—let me see if I can find them." Carefully the royal slid open the desk drawer, and sorted through the contents.

Not wishing to intrude on a royal ghost, she waited semi-anxiously.

"If you're sure it's alright..."

"Don't worry," he calmly instructed--or perhaps Ursa mistook for tranquility his acceptance of doom (the fate to which she had sentenced him, whatever it might be). "Look--here they are."

At his shoulder the noblewoman looked on as Prince Ozai showed her a small bundle of paintings, comprised largely of blossoming trees and mountain sunsets. Then he came to one depicting a a little prince, who laughed at them with sunny, amber cheer.

"That's my brother."

Treading lightly over worlds of jealousy, Ursa carefully observed, "It's a good likeness."

He looked at her, a ghostly spark of amusement in his eyes.

"How would you know? When she painted this, neither of us were born yet."

"Well, you see...just now I was admiring all of your portraits in the hall," she admitted self-consciously. "Of course there isn't one where Prince Iroh was quite this young, but that's how I guessed what he must have looked like."

"Oh." The spark of life fading, her elusive shadow turned back to the painting. "I'm told she would have painted me as well, but she wasn't often strong enough."

"It must have been sad for her, not being able to." In that haunting (haunted?) chamber, Ursa felt an unaccustomed but powerful empathy for the long-passed Fire Lady, who had so quickly lost her children to join the spirits.

"Iroh does say that she loved her family." As a phantom of anger briefly darkened his face, Prince Ozai returned the paintings to the drawer and closed it.

Emboldened by their ethereal setting, the noblewoman acted on her wish to ease his heart's armor away from him.

"Prince Ozai, if I may...?"

"Go ahead." Behind the blank resignation, Ursa thought she heard a subtle note of pain.

"Do you remember her, at all?"

With a hint of wry humor, he grimaced weakly.

"You really do like personal questions, don't you?"

"I'm sorry," she apologized in concern, taking care not to let her empathy shine too brightly on the wary, beloved shadow-prince. "That is...you don't have to--"

"Stop," he silenced her gently but firmly. When he closed eyes as though to compose himself, Ursa noticed again how tired he looked.

"I don't remember her very well. She died when I was two-and-a-half, and slowly weakened over that time. I do have a dim recollection of...never mind. It's stupid."

"Wait—tell me," she entreated. "I want to know."

Meeting the noblewoman's gaze as though to test her, Prince Ozai reluctantly continued, "Sometimes, when I was in my cradle, she would...sing to me. I vaguely remember her voice. That's all."

Her sight misting with a beautiful, poignant sadness, Ursa tried to put the emotion into words.

"That's...very sweet."

Again a snort of deadened irony escaped the stony phantom.

"Yeah. That's how everyone describes me."

With a small laugh of her own, she inquired, "Do you remember the song?'

Although his eyes became distant, his tone clearly ended the subject.

"No, I don't. Just her voice."

Changing the subject in compliance, the noblewoman sheepishly confessed, "I have another question, if that's all right."

"You're full of curiosity, aren't you?" As he attempted a crooked smile, Ursa dared to wonder if—by any chance—the prince from the banquet was...coming back to her at last.

"I suppose I am," she admitted, as an inner glow warmed her. "So, what I mean to ask is...what was it like, growing up without--without her?"

After briefly contemplating this, Prince Ozai shrugged.

"There isn't really an answer I can give you. My mother has been gone for most of my life, so I don't have anything to which I could compare her absence."

At this matter-of-fact statement, Ursa felt the sympathetic dreamer resurfacing within her.

"It sounds lonely."

He regarded her in surprise.

"Actually, I didn't get the worst of it; like I said, you can't miss what you never knew." Becoming reflective, he amended, "Iroh had a hard time, though. He still can't talk about our mother and be completely...unaffected."

"I suppose they were very close," the noblewoman surmised a tad wistfully.

"They were. Both my parents loved their firstborn."

As though to deaden the sting of resentment and wanting, his voice flowed like a soothing breeze over the words, his eyes distant and unreachable.

"I'm sure it...wasn't just him," Ursa tentatively comforted the prince.

Beneath his dark lashes, the royal slid a glance toward her, seeming hesitant further let down his defenses.

"My brother doesn't think so, either. He assures me that Azulon and Ilah didn't forget the second son, but..." Shaking his head wearily, Prince Ozai trailed off.

"You don't believe it," she guessed simply.

"It's hard to go on faith alone, at least for me. I'm not like Iroh." His mouth twisting in a sickly, bitter smile, he acceded, "I guess that's the point."

Absently tracing the woodwork on the desk, Ursa tried to offer him hope.

"It seems strange that it would be anything other than a...misunderstanding."

With a despairing, haggard echo of his pitying cynicism, the prince looked at her helplessly.

"You're like my brother, always wanting to believe the best of people."

"Is that bad?" she asked with childlike sincerity, tilting her head as though to better understand him.

"I don't know." His jaw tensed as he frowned uncomfortably. "I just... I was never an optimist, and this is what I see."

"That your father overlooks you?" she clarified gently, working hard to comprehend the prince's veiled hurts.

"It's not terribly surprising, Ursa," he informed her bleakly. "There's no doubt of Iroh's worthiness to be Crown Prince,and he had five-and-a-half years to reign alone in our parents' love before I came along. It was a lot to expect of them, I guess, to love two as much as they did the first," he added philosophically, and his unresisting submission broke Ursa's heart.

Blinking back tears, she insisted, "They—I mean, it shouldn't be. There's so much they would...be missing."

As he started, the noblewoman thought she glimpsed a fleeting smile.

"Since when do you think there's anything to miss?"

In a small voice, she countered, "Since when do I not?"

Gazing speculatively at her, the prince gave no reply. Either satisfied or giving up, he broke the silence.

"I wasn't always jealous of him, you know—not like now."

Ursa looked at him.

"You saw those portraits, right?"

She nodded.

"I did."

As though recounting a tale from the faraway past, he explained, "When I was little, I wanted to more than anything to be like Iroh. He was my perfect elder brother, who had everything in the world—including Father's acceptance and pride. Back then I was naive enough to think I could somehow earn those things too, just by imitating the child he loved."

Laying aside the compassion that pierced her, the noblewoman tried to encourage Prince Ozai by her agreement.

"I like that first portrait, where he's...holding you on his lap. You both seem...happy, being together."

As usual, the prince shied away from talk of sentimentality, and went on.

"Apparently Iroh made some kind of promise to Mother, just before she died. Obviously she wouldn't be around to look after me, so she wanted my brother to do it for her. He took the job very seriously, and at first I didn't complain too much."

Because honesty and acceptance were at last drawing them closer, Ursa she knew could openly make her next query.

"What changed, then?"

Mouth tightening, he bluntly asserted, "I wised up to the fact that no matter how hard I tried to mimic my brother, I would always be second in Father's eyes."

"What did you do?" she asked.

"I was angry for a while." In her mind's eye, the noblewoman saw the brooding teenager in the third portrait, no longer the elder prince's devoted younger sibling.

As Prince Ozai's expression lightened, the adolescent hid behind the older, beguiling enigma, borrowing a touch of persuasive eloquence from him.

"Then I tried to be different as possible from Iroh; we're nothing alike, so it wasn't that hard. If I can't earn what Father gives him, at least I can show people I'm more than a shadow of the Crown Prince. I'm not just Iroh's little brother!" he exclaimed, temper rising before he reigned it in.

Troubled, Ursa reminded him, "Prince Ozai, I know that it's different with the Fire Lord, but everyone else...we respect and _love _both of you. That is, your brother may garner the most adulation, but as you said...he is the Crown Prince."

Although still dissatisfied, the second prince seemed at a loss.

"I know. It makes perfect sense—they should honor most the Fire Lord's heir. And it isn't like Father ignores or hates me. Still--"

"You feel it," she finished with a leap of empathy. "You can tell when he accepts Prince Iroh just a bit more."

At first, she thought he would brush off her insight with dry sarcasm, but he did not. Fists clenching, Prince Ozai turned away as in shame, and hoarsely admitted the truth.

"Yes. I feel it."

Harboring the rest of story with him, the angry young boy still hungered for the missing paternal bond. Perhaps not now, but as soon as she could, Ursa would coax him out of the shadows, healing the wounds of her mysterious phoenix.

"Thank you—for showing me all of this." Although she gestured towards the writing desk, the noblewoman hoped he would catch the deeper meaning.

"Pay it no mind." With offhand courtesy, Prince Ozai conveyed that he had understood, and hadn't fully embraced the prospect of spilling out his dark secrets.

Interrupting Ursa's resolve to change that, he remarked dryly, "We should leave now, if we don't want to deprive the servants of their ghost."

Shyly his princess smiled at him.

"Let's go together."

In answer he only nodded, but Ursa detected a trace of relief that brought to mind his urgent wish that she stay. As they walked out of the silent chamber, the noblewoman paused in the doorway to look back.

Whispering restlessly, the draped curtains stirred and billowed around the bed, and the dust motes drifted serenely in the golden shaft of sun. Staring closer, Ursa watched (or was it her imagination?) as they swirled into the form of a regal mother holding a little child, with a boy skipping around her skirts.

In a sighing voice, the red silk rustled, and the draft carried its words, murmuring them in the noblewoman's ear.

_Look after him for me. Love and protect my darling._

With a wonderful sense of destiny and otherworldliness, the future princess reassured the beloved ghost.

_Be at peace, dear Lady. I will._

_-_

* * *

_-_

When Ursa caught up to Prince Ozai, they walked back downstairs to the main dining room. Here they discovered Dai and Ting Yan, who had finally awoken, and Zhao had joined them. Sitting on cushions around a low table in the center, their friends were eating a late breakfast of chickenpig dumplings and bowls of rice.

"Hello, you two!" Ting Yan greeted the new arrivals, her optimism thinly veiling curiosity.

Although clearly startled, Dai regained her composure quickly.

"Good morning, Your Highness and Ursa." Seeming guarded toward the prince, she cast an inquiring look at her friend, asking (along with Ting Yan) if their plan had worked. Dreading the account she'd have to give them later, the future princess outwardly smiled, and went to sit next to them.

"Hey, man," said Zhao, clapping Prince Ozai on the back as the latter took a seat beside Ursa. Instead of purposefully invading her space, the prince now appeared far less sure of himself, as though he wanted to keep his distance but couldn't stay away.

"What's up?" prompted the nobleman, as everyone stared expectantly at the royal and his future betrothed.

As Prince Ozai regarded them all, his imperious sarcasm faintly returned.

"So, just because Ursa and I walk in together, you all gape at us like we're some kind of freak show?"

Taking the hint, everyone laughed nervously, and for once the princess-to-be felt thankful that her prince could take charge so easily.

Amidst the laughter, Prince Iroh walked out of the kitchen. Bearing a tray with more dumplings and bowls of steaming rice, he had donned an apron, which strained against his powerful firebender torso.

"Who wants some more? Ah, there you two are—I was wondering, because you need to have breakfast sometime! Please enjoy my humble cooking, Ursa. Here you go, little brother. Eat," he directed firmly, handing out bowls and chopsticks. Despite his lighthearted manner, the noblewoman caught the concerned look Prince Iroh gave his brother.

Bemused, Prince Ozai took the offered meal.

"Thanks and all that, but what on earth are you wearing?"

"Do you like it?" asked the Crown Prince enthusiastically, spreading out the garment for them to see. "There was a bigger one, but it had ruffles, and I don't think I'm quite manly enough to pull off wearing that."

Looking profoundly disturbed, Zhao and the younger prince exchanged a glance that declared each would be scarred for life by the image of Prince Iroh in ruffles.

Chuckling at their mortification, the elder prince admitted regretfully, "I really shouldn't be here, but I needed a break from, er, paperwork."

"By all means, don't let us keep you," murmured his still-perturbed sibling, beginning to eat the rice as Ursa started on hers.

"Now now, little brother, don't be like that," Prince Iroh admonished him. As a tribute to Prince Ozai's legendary temper, everyone else waited intently and a little fearfully to see his reaction.

Finding himself once more the object of nearly universal fascination, the younger prince skeptically raised an eyebrow.

"What, you want me to attack the Crown Prince?"

As they dissolved into self-conscious mirth once again, Ursa made a mental note to resist staring at the one who riveted her attention.

"Hey, I've got an idea!" Zhao announced.

"Agni save us," interjected Prince Ozai in a low tone, and the nobleman shot him an annoyed look.

"If Your Highness will deign to let me continue--"

"Permission granted," the prince cut in smoothly.

"—then I would like to say: we should all go down to the beach after this, and hang out."

"A wonderful idea!" agreed Prince Iroh. "I don't have anything truly urgent to take care of at the moment, so I'll join you for a little while."

"You're not coming in that," enjoined his brother, apprehensively regarding the apron.

"Of course not--I wouldn't want to get sand on it!" While the elder prince gave no sign that he grasped the younger's intended meaning, Ursa suspected Prince Iroh had understood very well, and was proud of completely missing the point.

No doubt used to this, the second prince sighed.

"You're weird, big brother."

"I love you, too," returned the Crown Prince, causing Prince Ozai's eyebrow to twitch.

"Let's get ready for the beach!" Ting Yan adjured, dramatically setting down her empty bowl.

"I'm with you there," Zhao concurred.

"Perhaps we can invite Piandao along," suggested Dai. Although his absence would make it easier to learn of the battle she and Ting Yan had missed, Ursa appreciated her friend's desire to be helpful.

"Of course," Prince Iroh affirmed, clapping his hands together. "So then, everyone get changed, and I'll meet you back here in ten minutes."

-

* * *

-

We're waiting for the girls to get ready, I thought I'd write a bit. My brother told them _ten minutes,_ but you know how females are...

Anyway, where where we? Ah, yes.

I lost.

And strangely, I don't care. After my sleepless...what would you call it...adolescent crisis last night, I can hardly stand to be away from her.

Ursa. My princess.

I've lost the battle and my pride, and yet my enemy, the one who somehow resuscitated my dead heart, is all that's keeping me sane. She's like a drug to me—I'm an addict, and she numbs the pain. Somehow my bitter ghost of freedom doesn't matter any more.

Just now I showed her Mother's old room. She's starting to slip behind my defenses so easily, now—Ursa, that is—like she began to at the party. I'll admit that it makes me...extremely nervous (I don't like revealing my deepest desires), but not enough to keep fighting for a hopeless cause, especially now that I'm not sure I want to win.

With a couple paragraphs of my usual disturbing angst out of the way, I'll move on to another subject. The point of this book was to help me not fall for Ursa, and it obviously didn't work. So I think I'll take a break from writing in it, at least temporarily. Right now I'm just waiting to, well, see what happens, and for once I think I'd rather experience my life than analyze it.

I've got to go—Ursa's calling.

And that's what matters.

-

* * *

-

Having picked up the apprentice swordsman on the way, everyone spread out to relax at the beach. As the girls and Piandao conversed (Ting Yan and Dai nobly restraining their curiosity), Zhao proposed yet another match of fireball.

With an amused shake of his head, Prince Ozai declined, and related to them his own plans.

"Sorry, man; Ursa and I are going to take a walk, but why don't you ask them?" Jerking his thumb towards Piandao and the other girls (while the future princess was still processing his decisive intention), the prince added, "Seriously, Zhao, your love for this sport is insatiable."

"Hey, it's a fun sport," Prince Iroh came to the rescue. "So then, will any of you join us?"

"Not me," Dai refused, politely rueful. "I'm afraid Mother would simply murder me if I scrambled about kicking a ball. I'd be happy to watch, though."

"Then you can be our referee," Zhao decided. "How about you other two?"

"I'd love to!" Ting Yan assented, jumping up. "You will too, won't you, Piandao?"

"I'll try my hand at it."

As the apprentice swordsman rose to his feet, Prince Ozai leaned down to Ursa.

"Come on, turtleduck—let Iroh babysit the kids for a while."

The future princess blushed, yet the internal swarm of butterflies only enhanced her happy, anticipating mood, which was finally starting to match the summer sky.

As they walked away, Ursa turned back to wish the same inner sunshine for all of them.

"Have fun, all of you!"

Smirking, Zhao replied, "We will, thanks...and same to you."

"Indeed," Dai echoed him, both intrigued and perhaps a trifle smug as she watched them go.

As they meandered along the foam-washed sand, the prince remarked, "I see you coming here a lot. Do you like the shore?"

"Oh, yes—I love the ocean."

"I never really considered it something to love," Prince Ozai replied speculatively. "It is my natural opposite, after all."

"I love how the sun sparkles on water," Ursa divulged, "especially at sunset."

"That is nice," he agreed. "It seems to prove that opposites complement each other."

Strolling along the beach with her prince, the princess-to-be wondered if they had at last rediscovered their fairytale's destined course, after the long interlude of heartache and bitterness. Warm contentment spreading through her like heat from a bonfire, Ursa tried to express her inmost feelings in casual conversation.

"I think...sometimes you begin to love something that you didn't think you would, even if it is your exact opposite."

Dryly chuckling, Prince Ozai made a face.

"You sound like Iroh. Still, I guess it shows you're balanced, which I'd expect from the Avatar's grand-daughter." From the master of hidden meanings, these words spoke clearly that he also wished for peace.

Pleased by their new understanding, Ursa began to feel daring and playful, in the manner of which yesterday had been a cruel, broken mirror.

"Prince Ozai, I think you should learn to better appreciate your opposite element," she told him coyly, walking a little further into the waves.

"You do?" he inquired archly, following her into the trap.

"Yes!" Leaning down, the noblewoman splashed an incoming wave toward him, and ran away squealing delightedly as he chased her with feline grace.

"Let me show you just how much I appreciate this element," offered the prince, kicking the water back at her.

When Ursa stepped backward through the foam, Prince Ozai stalked languidly toward her, with a heated intensity in his molten stare that never left her own. As he lunged forward, the royal's strong arms encircled her waist, and he dragged her out with him into the deeper water. Clinging to his sculpted chest, the future princess waited between fear and awe for the next breaker. When it swept them back to the land, she stumbled, but the firebender's hands steadied her.

Brushing his nose against her fragrant locks, her prince made a noise between a purr and a growl.

"You're still intent on luring me in, aren't you, turtleduck?"

"No, I'm not," the noblewoman assured him earnestly, worried that she had crossed the line after all.

"I really think you are," Prince Ozai smugly contradicted her. Like many times before, he breathed the words in her ear, but now his tone held no cruelty.

"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are when you get flustered?"

Relieved that he meant to banter and not accuse, Ursa pulled away in mock irritation—but he wouldn't release her, and they stood close together in the foaming tide.

"Let go of me."

His eyes holding quiet laughter, the royal exercised his authority.

"Request denied."

"It wasn't a request," she corrected him, attempting to sound confident.

Unruffled, he enlightened her.

"I'm a prince; it was."

Able to bear the uncertainty no longer, Ursa let the question escape that would show her _which_ prince (please, let it be the right one).

"Then...why won't you let me go?"

Lowering head to hers, Prince Ozai gave his inward, secret smile.

"Why do you think?"

Although melting before her prince's calm attentiveness, the noblewoman feared losing him again.

"I thought you didn't like our marriage being arranged."

"I thought so, too."

"But now, why...?" she whispered, hardly daring to hope.

His amusement spilled itself outward in an impish grin.

"Right now, I'm guessing it has something to do with your beach attire."

At the abrupt change of mood, Ursa feigned blushing indignation. While less revealing than some, her sleeveless top and long, wrap-around skirt did not conceal her shoulders, arms, or midriff.

"You're...awful!" Prince Ozai still hadn't let go, however, and it was hard to stay aggravated with him so close.

"And you are hot in a swimsuit," he maintained, unaffected.

Ursa hardly registered the words, completely lost in the golden inferno barely inches from her own eyes. Still closer it came—now the firestorm blurred out of focus, enveloping her...

_Are we going to...?_

Just as her lashes fluttered closed, someone broke into their private world.

"Hey, Ozai! Come over here; we need you."

Like those waking from a dream, the prince and (future) princess turned their heads to see Zhao approaching them.

For the look on Prince Ozai's face, "irritated" was a gross understatement.

"You'd better have a good reason for interrupting us."

"I know, I know." Apparently too used to the prince's temper for his own good, the nobleman raised his hands in the typical "Back off, man" gesture.

"Yeah, so I'm sorry about that, and I pledge my eternal servitude in payment or whatever, but you really ought to come now. There's this guy who--"

"All right. We're coming," the royal tersely consented. His arm around Ursa's shoulders, they returned with Zhao to the fireball net.

The game now over, an unfamiliar teenager was emphatically discoursing about...something or other at great length, as an older boy hulked menacingly a step behind him. Listening to the self-important monologue along with Piandao, Ting Yan, and Dai, Prince Iroh nodded placidly now and then, but Ursa knew him well enough to see he was irked.

Striding up to them, Prince Ozai took a place by his brother and folded his arms, clearly a force to be reckoned with.

At last the young man fell silent, and coolly appraised the second prince.

"And you are?"

Cutting off Prince Iroh's introduction, Prince Ozai laughed in disbelief.

"Wait—you mean you don't know?"

"Don't you know who _we_ are?" countered the new guy's henchman.

"Other than self-important beach bullies?"

Once again cutting short the Crown Prince's peaceable intercession, the leader corrected the younger prince.

"I'm Chan, and this is Peng Mao." Seeming to think no further explanation necessary, he smirked expectantly at them.

"We rule this beach," added Peng Mao.

"Do you?" Prince Ozai queried with detached charisma, but Ursa recognized the veiled scorn he had shown first to Lord Chao, and then to herself.

"That's right," Chan affirmed, "and we were just congratulating your friends on their...unexpected win against us."

Looking at Zhao, the prince asked lightly, "So does that mean you've found a new 'deadly attack' partner?"

"No, and are they kidding? We beat these guys into the ground," Zhao snorted. "You're not replaced, but Ting Yan is amazing at offense. She's practically an acrobat."

"Good for her." The pantherwolf smiled politely.

Reclaiming the attention for themselves, Peng Mao asked his friend, "Hey Chan, didn't you ask these two a question?"

Condescendingly amused, Prince Ozai took their unhurried intimidation game straight to the point.

"You mean you want to know who we are?"

"Yeah, so who are you?" Chan pressed, looking annoyed that his opponent could not be threatened.

Finally getting a word in, Prince Iroh began, "My brother and I are--"

"'Roh and 'Zai." Prince Ozai finished. After shooting him a quick glance, the elder prince gave in and played along.

"And I'm supposed to recognize those names?" Chan scoffed

"If you move in the right circles." Completely in control, the predatory feline watched his prey with that frightening, inward smile.

Narrowing his eyes, Chan switched tactics, and donned an air of friendly superiority.

"We don't normally do this for people we haven't even heard of, but we'll make an exception for you. Peng Mao, tell them."

"We're having a party tomorrow night at Chan's place," the henchman informed them, casually smug. "You should come."

"And you can bring your...entourage," added the leader.

"We'll be there," Prince Ozai confirmed, effortlessly blending refinement and attitude. "Won't we, brother?"

"Thanks for your invitation," Prince Iroh backed him up, a glint of humor in his eyes.

"See you." Unable to further assert their authority here, the two young men carelessly strolled away—that is, until the teenager with real power stopped them with another question.

"Hey Chan, would you by any chance belong to the Da family?"

At last receiving his dues, the boy looked around with a lofty air.

"Yeah, so?"

"Nothing. I've seen your uncle at court." Despite Prince Ozai's nonchalance, the secret laughter grew more pronounced as he turned away, and Ursa pitied those foolish enough to become his adversaries.

"Congratulations on getting to court," snickered Peng Mao as they continued on.

When they moved out of earshot, Prince Iroh mildly asked his brother, "I trust you have a reason for keeping our identity a secret?"

"I do."

"A good one?"

Gazing at him with a younger sibling's contrived innocence, Prince Ozai grinned winningly.

"Depends on your definition of 'good.' Look, it might be fun going incognito; we're so used to people worshiping us, especially you. Don't you always say you'd like to talk to our subjects without your Crown Prince aura?"

"Good point," Prince Iroh conceded. "Feel free to carry out your masterful scheme, but remember I'll be there to keep an eye on you." Glumly he looked inland. "Right now, though, I should be getting back—I'm expecting a messenger hawk."

"Have fun with that, big brother." Fixing a hawklike stare on Zhao, Prince Ozai then pronounced, "...And it's my turn to ask questions. I trust you had a good reason for dragging Ursa and me over here?"

Zhao shrugged.

"Those guys were being obnoxious, so I thought you should do what you're good at and put them in their place."

Unimpressed, the royal observed, "If that's all you can come up with, perhaps we should think of something besides eternal servitude to add to your punishment."

"Never the merciful type, are you?" Rolling his eyes, the nobleman didn't give the prince a chance to reply. "Be as disturbing as you want, but later I'll want to hear all about whatever I interrupted—and so will Dai and Ting Yan, from the looks on their faces."

Caught, the other girls looked guiltily at each other.

Brushing the sand off himself, Piandao broke the silence.

"I should leave soon as well—but thank you all for inviting me."

"No problem," Zhao grandly waved off his gratitude. "By the way, man, you're not so bad with a ball."

"Thanks—it was a good game." Nodding in farewell, he started towards his own house.

As the rest of them followed suit, Prince Ozai walked beside Zhao to further discuss suitable recompense for interrupters, and the elder prince took the opportunity to speak semi-privately to Ursa.

Covertly producing a colorful flier, he explained, "I picked this up on the way here. Tonight the Ember Island Players are performing 'Love Among the Dragons.' I thought you might enjoy going to see it, perhaps with...a friend." Smiling sagely, Prince Iroh glanced at his brother, and walked ahead to converse with Ting Yan and Dai about their trip yesterday.

Motioning Zhao ahead of him, Prince Ozai fell into step beside Ursa.

"What were you and Iroh conspiring about just now?" he asked teasingly, transforming their old argument to an inside joke.

Her heart beating faster, the noblewoman voiced the idea that Prince Iroh had given her, which twinkled inside her like a star coming out at twilight.

"Well...he found—I mean, do you like plays? There's a show on tonight, and..."

"You mean the Ember Island Players?"

"Yes."

He smiled, not cruel, but pitying.

"They're a laugh."

"What?" Confused, the noblewoman looked at him.

"Their plays are the most ridiculous things I've ever seen," he elaborated, simply stating his opinion (and forgetting to think of hers).

With a terrible sense of deja vu, Ursa shivered despite the warm summer day. Had her own prince not returned after all?

"...Never mind, then." Dropping her hand to her side, the noblewoman hid the unwanted flier in the folds of her skirt.

When they returned to the beach house's courtyard, Prince Ozai stretched his arms luxuriously, and shook out his ebony mane.

"I'm ready for a hot bath. Guess I'll see you later, turtleduck."

Still numb, Ursa looked away.

"Very well."

After a pause, he spoke in a less carefree tone, seeming to have caught on that something was wrong.

"...Later, then."

When the girls returned to their rooms, the servants helped them each fill a hot tub in the washroom they shared. Left alone to soak, the other two bombarded Ursa with questions.

"Did our plan work? Is that why it's so...different, between you and Prince Ozai?" asked Dai, for once breathlessly fascinated. "Ursa, you simply have to tell me or I'll die of curiosity."

"I know, me too!" agreed Ting Yan as she gazed pleadingly at the future princess.

Even less inclined than she had felt earlier to discuss her relationship with the prince, Ursa decided to go see the play after all. Delaying the explanation a few hours wouldn't kill her friends.

"I'm sorry, but I don't have time to give you the full story right now. I have to get ready for this evening."

"Oh, are you going somewhere with him?" guessed Ting Yan, her eyes sparkling conspiratorially.

"No." Remembering what could have been, Ursa felt her throat catch, and looked away quickly.

"Then...what are you...?" began Dai in confusion.

Attempting brightness, Ursa exclaimed, "I'm going to see my favorite play by the Ember Island Players tonight! I've always loved them, ever since I was a child..."

Dai arched her eyebrows.

"You have...unusual tastes, Ursa."

"So I've heard." Like her prince (the real one, or maybe just the shadow), she caressed the words with her voice, so the pain they concealed would pass over her.

"Well...we should come with you!" Ting Yan offered helpfully with her usual fearless optimism.

Thinking quickly, Ursa frowned.

"Thank you, but...you must be tired, after your journey yesterday."

"Well, yes, but--"

"Let her go, Ting Yan," instructed Dai with her usual surprising perception."Whenever you're ready to tell us, Ursa, we'll be here."

Ignoring the loneliness that chilled her once more, the future princess managed to smile gratefully at them.

-

* * *

-

Beneath an evening sky lit up with ethereal gold, Ursa slipped out of the beach house and made her way into town. When she arrived, the sunset was darkening to twilight, and all around her lights twinkled in the homes and public buildings.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ursa glimpsed someone following her. Giving him a phantomlike appearance, the deep hood of a long cloak cast his face into shadow. Becoming anxious, the noblewoman began walking more quickly toward the playhouse, but the figure spoke.

"Ursa—wait." Drawing back his hood, Prince Ozai revealed himself, resplendent in royal robes.

"Oh!--I...didn't expect to see you here," she confessed with a fluttering pulse, for the second time that day.

With a turbulent monsoon in the gazing, night-shadowed gold, the prince wasted time on pleasantries.

"What I said before, about the Players—I...hurt you, didn't I?"

Remembering that Prince Iroh had said truthfulness could best soften the heart of steel, Ursa tried not to be afraid of making herself vulnerable.

"...Yes."

"I'm sorry, Ursa—I had no idea," attested Prince Ozai, direct and straightforward. "Sometimes I'm not very...perceptive about things like that."

The prince—her own prince—had come all this way to apologize. All at once the evening seemed warmer, the sky more radiant.

"Please don't trouble about it," the noblewoman requested, hesitantly smiling.

"But I will," he insisted. "You like this play, do you not?"

"It's my favorite," she affirmed.

"Shall we, then?" Once again Prince Ozai offered his arm to her, in this new, dreamlike world where their relationship (romance?) had changed yet again. Slipping her hand into his elbow, Ursa strolled with him toward the playhouse, like a flawless, idealized couple out of a fairytale or in the Players' dramatic sagas.

When they arrived at the playhouse, a spindly old man stood at the door, taking the patrons' entrance fees. When their turn came, the prince gave the ticket man his imposing stare that Ursa knew so well.

"Tonight you are honored by the presence of Lord Azulon's second son and my princess-to-be."

Eyes widening in awe, the man bowed low to them.

"Please come in, Highnesses—right this way." As he showed them to the usually expensive balcony seats, Ursa contemplated the strange sound of "Highnesses" plural, and found she rather liked it.

When they were seated and the ticket man had bowed himself out, Prince Ozai leaned over to her.

"Think of the free performance as my apology—part of it anyway. Since I'm royalty, the 'free of charge' business is too easy be my only, er, repayment."

"Oh, Princ—I...thank you," she stammered, touched by his wish to make amends. "Although...didn't you say that you don't prefer the Ember Island Players?"

"Well...to be honest, yes," he admitted, though apparently not without his own misgivings regarding honesty.

Suddenly very interested in her folded hands, Ursa professed in a small voice, "In that case...it's more than enough that you're sitting through this play for me."

Looking both relieved and awkward, the prince again retreated from the disclosing of emotions.

"Don't mention it. And...it's nothing personal against the Players, you understand—I stay away from sappiness in general, although if I did like that stuff...I'll admit that I probably wouldn't choose this bunch as my outlet for it." In their new, deepening...whatever it was, he seemed less coolly assured than usual, as though strained by maneuvering through these uncharted grounds. A little tensely, he continued to ward off the silence.

"Iroh's the poetic one, as you probably guessed, so he has a more sophisticated reason for disapproval—something about not doing the story justice," Prince Ozai clarified, a slightly forced smile inviting her to laugh with him.

Accepting the invitation, the future princess assured him, "I don't blame you and your brother for having standards higher than the Players--they aren't the best in the world, and I know that. But I like them."

"Then...that's the important thing," he avouched cautiously, still unsure about taking back up the role of gentlemanly prince.

In blushing pleasure, Ursa lowered eyes.

"I'm honored. But...I'd like to ask you a question, if I may. How did you know I came here?"

"Iroh saw me and asked why I was still at the house--he thought I'd left to see the play with you," the prince explained. "Dai and Ting Yan told us you had gone alone, so of course I had to come after you."

Charmed by his businesslike concern, Ursa failed once more adequately describe her reaction.

"That's very...sweet."

Prince Ozai chuckled wryly.

"You know, you're the only one who can get away with describing me that way. Still, if we're being honest, I suppose I should mention that dashing to the rescue wasn't just my idea—Iroh and I both thought I should drop everything and go." In a low tone, he added pensively, "It's dangerous, sometimes... You shouldn't be wandering alone at night."

"Perhaps I was foolish, then, and I am sorry... But even if Prince Iroh also thought you should come, you were the one who came to protect me," she softly persisted. He gazed at her without speaking, but the lights dimmed at that moment, and his expression was lost except for a golden glimmer.

Soon Ursa became enthralled in the story, greeting each new character and plot development like an old friend. For the first act, Prince Ozai sat through it without complaining.

Nonetheless, at the intermission he sighed from boredom instead of satisfaction.

"How long does this thing last?"

"The play is halfway over. Why?"

Looking pained, he made an effort to phrase his objection tactfully.

"The, ah, general melodrama is getting to me. The effects were decent, though, and I liked the fight scenes."

When a giggle escaped Ursa, the royal glanced quickly at her.

"What is it?"

Smiling, the noblewoman shook her head.

"Nothing--you sound just like my cousins. They don't prefer sentimentality and romance, either."

"I didn't say I disliked all sentimentality--just the Players." Although he spoke mildly, something in the prince's thoughtful gaze made her guess he wasn't content to let it simply drop. However, the play then resumed, and she didn't have a chance to find out what he had up his sleeve.

During the second act, Ursa had a difficult time concentrating on the story, and for a very good reason. As soon as the lights dimmed, Prince Ozai communicated his preference for paying attention to his princess and not the play. No longer allowed personal space, she felt his lips brush her dark, silken tresses, and then his warm breath against her ear as the prince echoed in a whisper the hero's lines of devotion to the heroine.

Certain her face matched his red robes, Ursa did her best to ignore the returning, intensified swarm of butterflies, so that she could speak.

"Prince Ozai? What...What are you doing?"

"Proving I can be romantic," he murmured huskily. Bringing a hand up to cradle her other cheek, he kissed the noblewoman's temple.

Bemused and wondering, Ursa let him turn her face up to his. Staring at her fairytale prince, she forgot all else. As the half-smile lingered, his golden gaze caressed her with unusual tenderness. Slowly, gently, he lowered his head toward hers...

...then instead, Prince Ozai pulled the noblewoman close to him, so that she was leaning against his shoulder. As he stroked her long, shadowy locks, the firebender melted away the strange feeling of let-down that returned to confuse his princess.

In calm, contented bliss, Ursa watched rest of the play in his arms, listening to the heart that now belonged to her.

-

* * *

-

When she returned to her room late that night, the noblewoman found that someone had laid a deep crimson fire lily on her bedside table. Written in an elegant scrawl, a note was attached to the stem.

_Hey Princess--_

_Be my date for Chan's party tomorrow night?_

_-O_

As elation swelled up inside her, Ursa kissed the words that her prince had written. Pressing the note to her heart, she twirled around the room like a drunken butterfly. Starry-eyed with ecstasy, the future princess fell onto her bed, gazing dreamily at the stars outside her window.

-

* * *

-

A/N: -blissful sigh- I'd be dancing too, if I were her. Wow, what a change from the last one's ending! See? I told you there'd be major Urzai. I was so happy to finally get to the actual fluff, instead of just imagining it.

Dedicated: To anyone who loves reading or writing UrsaxOzai.

Also, I forgot to mention last time that DragonFirebender84 was the one who told me that Piandao had been raised in an orphanage, and suggested that he was adopted in this fic. So thank you!

Did you like that ghost scene? I loved all of the Urzai bits, in different ways. The appearance of Lady Ilah makes me think of the Painted Lady, where someone else impersonated a spirit that turned out to be real. (I was imagining that Ursa had basically the same expression as Katara when the actual Painted Lady appeared.) The portrait scene before then was something I've had in mind for a long time, tho not always for this fanfic. I liked how that came out.

I've also had in mind the beach scene for a long time. The phrase "foam-washed sand" is borrowed from a song I wrote called Till the Tide Turns, which is in my Urzai collection of poems. (It's about another walk on the beach when they're a few years older than in this fic.) I had also been planning for the previous generation to meet young Admiral Chan in the same context as his son, and the other guy (Peng Mao) was supposed to be the general whose plan Zuko spoke out against, rather than the father of the younger Chan's friend. (That's why he's a bit older). Interestingly, I originally came up with that idea for a different fanfic, where Iroh, Ozai, and Ursa were 19, 14, and 12. Maybe I'll still write it some times--that portrait scene made me want to write about all those times in the princes' lives. Oh yeah, and Ursa's swimsuit was modeled after Mai's (since it seemed to fit, and her bathing suit is the one I like best).

Wonder when they'll kiss, huh? Maybe the third time will be the charm. ;) That scene at the end with the fire lily and the note is the other thing that I've known for a while would happen. (I was originally planning to put it in the next chapter, but I like it here now.)

Now for the question of the chapter. Actually, there are two. One: Which Urzai bit did you like best? For me, it's sooo hard to choose... I might say the beach walk, tho. Two: Anyone catch the Twilight references? There were two--one from the movie, and one from New Moon (near the beginning of the book, tho not the chapter). You know, when I read Twilight, Edward reminded me so much of how I characterize young Ozai--besides the golden eyes and pale skin (and gorgeousness), there's the eloquence, deep silky voice, sophisticated charm, almost mischevious sense of adventure/attitude (tongetwister lol), and he "might be" the bad guy. And Ursa has dark hair, also pale skin, massive empathy, and low self-esteem (meaning she finds it hard to appreciate how much she's worth, which I can identify with).

Sorry--I just love making connections between my favorite stories. There will be at least a couple more Twilight references, but hopefully they won't distract those of you who don't like the series. Speaking of connecting stories, tho, there's another fanfic in the making which...but never mind. Still, I will say Prince Ozai looks really good with fangs, such as when you turn all the firebenders into vampires...and not Twilight vampires, I might add (tho i love the books), but Vampire Knight vampires (an anime series). But enough of that. ;) For now.

Hope you enjoyed, and please review! I think this is my favorite chapter so far--i mean, it definitely is. I'm kind of conflicted over whether this or the next one (after which we'll be roughly halfway thru) will end up my favorite in the first half...


	9. Forbidden Dance

I'm a coward. Last night at the play, I was going to kiss her—the mood was perfect, and I think she wanted me to—but I just...chickened out. Unlike when we were at the beach, I have no-one to blame but myself, so naturally I'm going to make things even harder for The Interrupter.

The play itself was even worse than I remembered (aside from the fight scenes and effects, which were decent _for the Players)_, but having Ursa there with me, her head against my heart...more than made up for it. (Note to self: being gentlemanly pays off after all. Aren't you proud of me, Iroh?)

Speaking of Brother Dear, being in his shadow strangely doesn't bother me when I'm with my princess. I'm not claiming everything is all bright and cheery, but Ursa turned my world upside down. She unlocked my jeweled, royal shackles. I was afraid my bonds would only tighten, but now...

I'm free.

Even when the Crown Prince was my hero, I've always been aware that he surpassed me, but how—how ironic that I should be released by love, such a "weak" emotion that feels so invincible. If this is what Iroh's poets meant by a happy bondage, I'm gonna have to refute myself. This is worth everything, even (can you believe I'm saying this?) a right to the Fire Nation throne. The word "secondborn" has no meaning when I lose myself in Ursa's melting almond gaze, her cool, gentle voice... I bear these new chains gladly, and even fight to keep them.

Yesterday, I woke feeling pretty much dead, but Ursa slowly revived me. Just being with her, I feel as electrified (so to speak) as I do while firebending—and almost more so. She makes me giddy, drunk with her loveliness and laughter.

But she's fragile, so fragile. For all her inner strength, I have to be careful, or I'll burn the sparkling wings of my butterflymoth. I can't let her escape, or I'll go mad again—I know that now. But I can't force my Ursa to come, either—she has to want me. I...want her to want me, to need me, because no nation truly requires a second prince.

Aside from her safety, that was why I had to rush after her to apologize last night. And on that note ("note" as in subject, not "note" as in what I sent with the fire lily), Iroh let slip some interesting hints before I left. He told me threats are brewing, that they could reach us even here. I wouldn't be surprised, considering all the rumors of disloyalty that are flying around the court like an epidemic of the plague. Likely that's what my brother's doing here: trying to sort out the truth from afar (hence the continual "paperwork" and messenger hawks), and of course, he's doubtless making sure the baby of the family stays out of trouble.

It's too bad Father doesn't trust his angry, irresponsible younger son to handle dark secrets—I do have several of my own. (Harboring jealousy of the Crown Prince is definitely not something you should reveal.)

Anyway, the fact remains that Iroh's hiding something. I'll bide my time for now, but I intend to find out what he's protecting me from.

-

* * *

-

In a shining reflection of another sewing circle in another garden, the girls had taken their embroidery outdoors to enjoy the sunny weather. Unfortunately, Ursa didn't get much work done, because everything from the fiery summer sun to their location (_yet another garden_) kept recalling her mind to prince she had finally realized she adored.

"You seem preoccupied," Dai shrewdly observed.

Although Ursa had intended to artfully down play their curiosity, her planned sigh of serenity came out as a girlish titter worthy of Ting Yan.

"Oh, well, you know..."

As Ting Yan (speaking of whom) perked up her ears, her needle slowed.

"What happened last night? The princes asked us where you'd gone, and then Prince Ozai just went rushing off after you."

Deftly stitching her own pattern, Dai elaborated, "You didn't come back till late, and obviously you're not too unhappy, so I don't have too many qualms about extracting an explanation from you."

"Yes, so you've got to tell us!" pled Ting Yan.

Having regained her ladylike calm, Ursa was pleased to find she could speak without blushing like a schoolgirl.

"Very well. Prince Ozai caught up to me just when I arrived in town---"

"...and did he fall on one knee and beg your forgiveness?" Ting Yan dramatically conjectured.

Exasperated, Dai answered in her friend's stead. "Most likely not, because that isn't at all like him. Now let Ursa finish the story."

Miffed, Ting Yan persisted, "He might have done it for Ursa—he's nicer to her than to anyone else."

Interceding, the future princess resumed her tale.

"He did apologize, and then we went to the playhouse. Being royal, he could get us in for free."

"I knew it!" Dai exclaimed jubilantly. "Not only did he use the privileges of his rank to regain his lady's favor, but he even sat through a performance of the Ember Island Players!"

"Dai, don't interrupt!" admonished Ting Yan.

Embarrassed, Dai concentrated on her needlework.

"Oh—well, please continue, Ursa."

So the noblewoman told the rest of the tale, skimming over the more intimate details as much as her friends would let her. When she came to the fire lily and the note, the other girls both sighed in unified romanticism.

"How lovely!" Dai breathed a bit wistfully.

"You are sooo lucky, Ursa!" Ting Yan agreed enviously.

"I know I am," she confessed in humble joy.

Briskly Dai moved the discussion on to more pressing matters, leaving displays of emotion safely behind them.

"We obviously have to look our best for this party, especially Ursa."

"Shopping!" Ting Yan cried joyfully, and Dai nodded in satisfaction.

Pondering the strange way that two such different girls could read each other's minds, Ursa tried to refuse their unanimous conclusion.

"Um—no, thank you, I..."

"Nonsense, Ursa," Dai brushed her protests aside. "You have nothing to wear."

"Actually I do, I think..."

"But you need something extra special for a date with Prince Ozai!" Ting Yan enlightened her.

Sewing in hand, Dai stood up with an air of purpose.

"Come on, girls—let's hit the market place."

"Don't look so down, Ursa. It'll be fun!" Ting Yan encouraged, springing to her feet.

"And you can have your alone time this afternoon, so you'll be fresh for before the party," Dai thoughtfully suggested.

"But you need to have some fun before doing boring stuff like reading books," Ting Yan finished to drive the point home.

Knowing they had cornered her, Ursa looked from Ting Yan to Dai, and resolved to bravely face whatever ordeal they had in store. Rising from the garden bench, the noblewoman assented with a touch of her prince's sarcasm.

"Very well, then! Lead on, wise fashion experts."

At a dressmaker's shop in town, Ting Yan and Dai deliberated for half an hour over what shade of red would look best on Ursa. Finally they decided on a deep burgundy to offset her pale skin.

_I'll match Prince Ozai_, she thought with her first real spark of pleasure from the shopping trip.

Normally a garment could require a week's notice to complete, but somehow Dai and Ting Yan sweet-talked or perhaps threatened the seamstresses into whipping up their chosen pattern in one morning. Of course, Ursa suspected their persuasive argument centered on the customer's engagement to a prince—and not the nice prince, either. Inwardly she laughed to think of Prince Ozai's temper (or rather, his continued good humor) used as bargaining material.

When the other two finally ushered her out, Ursa felt worn out by the serious business of clothes shopping. On the way home, she didn't really listen to her friends exclaiming how perfectly she would be arrayed. Eventually Dai and Ting Yan realized that "hmm" and "oh" were all they could get out of her, so they instead they debated with each other the finer points of fashions for royals-to-be. Straightaway on their arrival back at the house, Ursa retreated to the sitting room upstairs where had she had found Prince Ozai yesterday.

That morning, she had woken early, and discovered the prince also awake. Over an early breakfast, he had told her that he sometimes retreated to this room—Lady Ilah's sitting room, he said it was—because usually no-one else came here. Knowing Ursa's love for fairytales, Prince Ozai had also recommended a book of old Fire Nation legends that his mother had loved. So after finding it in a little bookshelf of polished wood next to the window, Ursa settled on the couch, surrounded by physical memories of her beloved's family past.

-

* * *

-

True to his word, the Interrupter has become the Interrogator. Funny how we switched roles like that (and yes, he will pay for it later—providing I can tear myself away from the lovely Victim-Turned-Conqueror of...my affections, or whatever). Speaking of the Lovely One, I'm going to hunt her down in a minute, but first I'll record this.

Anyway, I was training in the courtyard (for once not driven by rage) when Zhao showed up, leaning against a pillar of the roof's overhang.

"So...what's up with you and Ursa?"

At first I considered pretending to be too engrossed in bending to notice--but we did, after all, have a score to settle. (Why blame the fact that I haven't kissed Ursa yet on my cowardice when I can blame it on Zhao?)

"Define 'up.'" Executing a high-level kata, I resisted the temptation to direct it toward my impertinent young...friend.

"'Up' like when Iroh gets onto you about your love life," he clarified. Infuriatingly smug, he was begging for recompense.

So I stopped pursuing my better nature (who knows?--I might actually have one) and punched fire at him. More ready for me than he appeared, Zhao sprang out of the way and we fell into another verbal and physical sparring match.

"Do my own eyes deceive me," he asked with a returning punch, looking impressed, "or has the great Heartless One lost a battle against his own emotions?"

"Don't be so sure it isn't just your own eyes," I growled, attacking with a fireball. "They're known to deceive you."

With far too much ease, Zhao parried both the flames and the cutting remark.

"I don't think my eyes were deceiving me when I came over to get you and Ursa yesterday. It looked like you had pretty much lost."

While expelling in all directions the fire he sent me, I contemplated my options. (Yeah, I can multi-task like that—I'm good at war, remember?)

Since I'm not planning to deny my exhilarating, mushy newfound love for much longer, I may as well start justifying it.

"So?" I inquired with my best "don't-mess-with-me" stare.

"So what?" he pressed, ignoring the hint. During my excursion into thought, I realized he had begun advancing, forcing me to retreat.

"So what if I did 'lose'?" I hedged, shooting fire repeatedly as I searched for an opening.

I found it when Zhao stared at me in surprise.

"Well, who'd have thought--"

Cutting short his moment of realization, I pushed forward, burning hands extended to trap him in a white-hot V of fire.

"You didn't answer my question," I reminded him.

"All right, then! Here it is: What made you give in?" His tone was a little distracted, no doubt from having to ward off my attack. "Last I knew, you were dead set on not falling for her."

Oh, are you attempting to trap me with my own past words? Do yourself a favor, Zhao and leave it to the master.

"Why wouldn't I give in? As you said, she's beautiful." I turned his own persuasive words against him, not letting my friend escape the fiery trap.

"I thought that didn't matter in the context of personal freedom." Looking entirely too savvy for his own good, Zhao finally broke away from the onslaught and zipped around to attack from behind.

Pivoting smoothly to face him, I created a fire wall inches from his nose.

"I can't answer what I don't know."

Sending the flames to either side, he seemed to find my response vastly entertaining.

"You mean somehow Ursa really outweighed your diehard mental liberty, and you don't even know why?"

"Thanks for driving home the fact that I feel like a fool." I smiled, politely dangerous.

"Why do you feel like a fool?" he questioned, answering my next strike with a flaming kick of his own.

"Why do you think?" I returned in annoyance, dodging it.

"One, because you lost to the heart you were proud of not having," he counted off, gathering a lopsided yellow-orange sphere beneath his hands. "Two, because you've had to surrender a goal you were dead set on--" His creation came sailing toward me--"or three, because you've realized what you spent all that time and energy on isn't worth that much anyway." When I shoved the fire back the way it came, he leapt aside.

"You are surprisingly perceptive," I said sarcastically, scouring my brain for a suitably interesting move to liven things up.

"Who knows? Maybe Iroh's rubbing off on me." Zhao shrugged light-heartedly, with a disturbing resemblance to my brother.

"If you start wearing aprons, I'll have you sent to the North Pole to become fish food."

As he roared with laughter, I molded my element into my own mini-satellite, which streaked the air with red brilliance in its wake just as the Comet must have long ago.

When his mirth subsided, Zhao mirrored my new strategy.

"All right, I get the point, Ozai. But I still haven't found out what exactly you were doing before I came over there."

"You can't guess? I didn't know I had to spell it out for you." With my miniature comet circling me, bending (literally) to my will, I wondered if my grandfather experienced this same intoxicating power and control, when he harnessed a celestial force to begin the War.

"You were kissing her, weren't you?" Zhao pulled me back to earth, spelling out the obvious for good measure.

"That was the plan." As our mini comets entangled, we each struggled for dominance.

"Until I showed up, yeah," my friend agreed. "But you've kissed her by now, right?'

"What makes you say that?"

"You had lots of time at that play, with the dark and everything."

"True." That was all I relented, verbally or in the duel.

"And? How was it?" he grunted, somehow managing to sound intrigued even while straining to hold his own against me.

"How was what?" When I want to be stubborn, it's as hard to pry me open as it is to beat me in a sparring match.

"How was the part when you and Ursa finally did what I stopped you from doing?" he clarified in exasperation.

Wow, that was really nice and clear, Zhao.

"Nonexistent."

"What?"

When surprised, Zhao lets his guard down too easily, so my comet finally snaked past his own and plummeted towards him as my temper lent it heat.

"I didn't kiss her, all right?"

"Why not?" Fortunately for him, Zhao kept a cool enough head to cocoon himself in a protective shell of fire.

"I don't know! I just...didn't." Taking out my anger and embarrassment on my friend, I hammered away on his defense with fiery punches, not particularly exercising my cunning or skill to break through.

Maybe Iroh is right about the dangers of rage. My outburst of temper almost blinded me to the bolt of flame Zhao shot towards me from behind his shield, along with a piece of constructive criticism.

"You are pathetic."

Catching the fire just in time, I expanded is to my own inferno, a golden blaze dancing all around me to mimic the dais on which I'll never reign.

"Care to repeat that?" I asked with the voice, if not the birthright, of a Lord.

"Better yet, I'll explain it," he condescended. Circling me, he kept his eyes peeled for an opening. "First you decide you won't fall in love with a pretty girl just because she was chosen for you, when for once you would have liked her just fine if you were allowed to choose your own wife. Then you lose to your own heart by falling in love with her, and to top it all off, you won't even kiss her when you're alone at a nice, romantic setting without any annoying friends like me." Thinking he'd found a weak spot, Zhao thrust a surge of flaming energy at my imitation dais, and then darted away.

"You pretty much nailed it, especially the last bit." Blocking the attack, I searched for my annoying friend, but the shimmering heat of my own blaze obscured my vision.

Without warning, he slammed me towards the ground, face first.

"So, here's what you need to do."

Catching myself on my hands, I turned over to punch fire up at him, my inferno otherwise extinguished.

"Do enlighten me." First Iroh, and—oh, great—now I'm taking love advice from Zhao. How low can I sink?

Grabbing my arm, he pinned it beneath one knee, throwing me backwards onto the flagstones.

"At the party, you need to slip away sometime with Ursa and finish what you started, so she'll know you're not a wimp."

"I'm pretty sure she doesn't think I'm a wimp." Ignoring the discomfort of his bony knee digging into my elbow, I flung my other, burning fist towards his face.

Although his head jerked back, Zhao deftly caught that arm as well, and forcibly held it to my chest.

"Prove it to her." With his free hand, he lowered a flame to just above my throat, effectively immobilizing me.

Why do I always have to be beaten into submission before I'll let myself...be happy?

"Fine," I gave in, acknowledging his victory in more than one way. "At the party tonight...I'll kiss her."

-

* * *

-

Lost in the world of ancient legends, mystical spirits, and mighty heroes, Ursa felt a light touch on shoulder.

"Hey bookworm."

When she looked up, a radiant, throbbing candle flared to life in her heart.

"Hello, my prince." As he smiled back at her with tender surprise, the noblewoman realized that for the first time she had called him "my prince" out loud.

"Hello, my turtleduck. I didn't know aquatic reptile-fowl were so literary-minded." From the sweaty, disheveled state of his person, Prince Ozai had just been training. Although he had seemingly wiped down with a wet towel before throwing on a robe, he would need a bath before the party.

"This one is literary-minded," she replied, hoping the flutters inside her wouldn't turn her voice to mush. Like the fangirls at the capital's public arena, Ursa had no objection to the firebender's grimy disarray.

"I'd like to take this turtleduck out for a walk," Prince Ozai proposed. "That is, assuming I'm more interesting than your book..."

"By far."

Setting the book on a side table, Ursa rose and came around the couch to him. Without thinking, the noblewoman stretched out her hand for his, but abruptly paused when she caught herself. As another soft look graced his countenance with unaccustomed serenity, Prince Ozai curled his fingers around her own and drew his princess near to him. So quickly their conflict had become like a distant memory, as their unfolding story filled the pages of the world with a song of delight. Still, their lingering wounds made the blossoming romance seem unearthly yet surreal, like a dream from which they feared yet to wake.

Walking close and whispering secrets, they had almost reached the doorway into the hills behind the house when Dai and Ting Yan converged on them from one direction, and Zhao from another.

"Ursa, it's time to pick up your outfit! Come with us to--"

"Hey Ozai, what should we do to Chan and--"

Calmly austere, Prince Ozai held up a hand.

"Silence, minions. Ursa and I are taking a walk."

As they swept past their obediently wordless friends, the noblewoman overheard Zhao remark, "The royal hothead has spoken, so I guess I'll see you other minions later."

Stifling a giggle, she glanced up to see the prince roll his eyes.

For a while they walked in silence, hand in hand. From time to time, Ursa would comment on the green, wild landscape, and in return Prince Ozai offered his own thoughts. At length they came to the field of fire lilies, where riotous crimson painted the valley like a sunset. Now that Ursa's prince stood by her side, the deep, burning hues enthralled her even more.

As the noblewoman admired the lilies, her prince carefully inquired, "Did you like the one I sent you?'

"Oh—yes," she thanked him, eyes sparkling

"It came from this place," he admitted. "As soon as I realized I'd offended you last night, I told one of the servants to cut a lily for me and send it to your room, along with the note." Still seeming uncomfortable with genuine sentimentality, Prince Ozai took refuge into dry humor. "Of course, that was after you had left for the play, so...I guess I was a bit too late."

This time, Ursa tried harder to find an alternative to "sweet."

"That was very...thoughtful of you."

"I love how you use the most unlikely adjectives to describe me," he remarked, eyes laughing.

"Well, it was," she persisted half in earnest. "I mean, sending a rare flower to a girl you've offended—how is that not thoughtful?"

"I guess it was," he surrendered. "I'm just not...used to being thought of that way."

Tentatively the noblewoman asked, "Do you...like sentimentality better, now?"

Prince Ozai tilted his head to consider.

"A little bit, yes. With you it's different, somehow."

"Why me?" Ursa wondered, touched.

"I don't know—it's because _you're_ different. Special, as my brother might say." He grimaced, as though to excuse his sappy confession.

"You think I'm...special?" she echoed him, a queer feeling inside.

"Agni, yes!" the prince avouched zealously. Running a hand through his dark mane, he looked at her sidelong. "Remember yesterday, when you asked me what changed my opinion about being forced to marry you, and I said it was your swimsuit?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," she confirmed, allowing herself a slight display of annoyance at the memory.

"Well, for once you might be happy to hear that I lied." Turning away, he spoke quickly, as though to lessen the pain of bleeding out his secrets. "It was you, or something about you, that...melted away my aversion to our arranged marriage. I can't fight anymore."

Speaking gently as she might to an untame creature, Ursa took care with her reply.

"Prince Iroh told me that freedom is important to you, no matter the cost."

"It was. But you called to whatever excuse for a heart I have, and...I can't refuse." His head still turned away, only his voice betrayed a profound, unfathomable emotion--but the noblewoman had no idea if she heard love or heartache.

"But that's also how it was with me," Ursa revealed, hoping to lighten the weight of his newly discovered humanity. "I...didn't want to be drawn to you, when you started being so..."

"Cruel." Now the loathing toward himself was unmistakable.

"...Yes," she reluctantly attested, and then redeemed his ruthless majesty, as her shining inner fire blossomed into dawnlight. "But I just couldn't stop. You caught my heart, somehow, and...I came."

"Like a butterflymoth to a candle flame," he murmured, and looked back at his princess to kindle her morning sky.

"Yes, exactly." Drunk with the poetry and the unlikely poet, she stepped closer, as one enspelled. "I'm your butterflymoth, and that's how I've always thought of you—like a glorious, golden bonfire from which I can't stay away."

Wonderingly Prince Ozai mused, "I've never been in someone's power--not like this. It feels strange."

Shyly Ursa led him through the unfamiliar ground.

"I think...it's called love."

"So that's what Iroh meant," he speculated, half to himself. "All these years, and I never..."

"Neither did I," agreed the noblewoman. "I dreamed--but without a real prince, my fantasies were empty."

"My dreams were a cold, steel nightmare." Giving an involuntary shudder, Prince Ozai fixed her with a look strangely akin to desperation. "I need you, butterflymoth. Promise me you won't fly away."

"I promise. No matter what happens, my heart will be right here," Ursa comforted him, laying a hand on his chest. "So you won't be alone."

His own hands cradling either side of her head, the prince touched his forehead to hers. Somberly he condemned his princess to bearing his unalterable devotion.

"You conquered my own heart, and you will carry it always."

Closing her eyes, Ursa reveled in the sweetness of that doom.

"It is a precious burden."

For a long time they stayed still, sheltering each other from the past and from the future.

-

* * *

-

In the summer sunset's rich, enchanted glow, the young people ate dinner that evening on a side veranda with a view of the ocean. They had invited Piandao to eat with them, so that "Team Awesome" (courtesy of Zhao) could advance as a unit to Chan's party, and pay back the beach bullies.

"Ooh, I'm so excited about the party!" breezily gushed Ting Yan.

"Ursa, you're going to love your new clothes," Dai added with unusual fervor.

"We'd better," Prince Ozai replied for her, eliciting a blush from his princess, and a laugh from everyone else.

In mock dissension, Piandao inquired, "Surely Your Highness does not suggest that Ursa is not stunning no matter her attire?"

With congratulatory air, the prince remarked, "I'm glad you've spotted the obvious, Piandao."

"If you two are done arguing over how pretty she is," Zhao interrupted, "do you want to talk about how we'll deal with Chan and Peng Mao?"

Prince Ozai raised his eyebrows.

"Way to go, spilling our secrets in front of everyone..."

Even less daunted than usual, Zhao snorted, "Oh, come on—it was hardly a secret. They annoyed everyone, you know—and some of us were actually involved in the fireball game yesterday."

Ignoring the jibe, the prince addressed them all.

"First, I will remind everyone that at the party, you are not to call my brother or myself by name, or 'Your Highness' or 'Prince So-and-So'--we're going by 'Roh and 'Zai. Chan and Peng Mao don't know we're the Fire Lord's sons, and I intend to keep it that way."

"Mind if I ask why?" Prince Iroh queried pleasantly.

"I told you," his brother replied. "I want to see how they treat us."

Although still benign, the elder prince became a trifle less nonthreatening.

"That was only added as an afterthought after you admitted to having a plan."

"Well..it was part of my 'secret' plan," the younger prince owned, looking irked.

"Which is?"

"You heard Chan brag about his family connections," Prince Ozai reminded his brother. "He's the nephew of Lord Chao, who is probably one of the nobles conspiring against us."

"You're going to punish him for an unproven crime of his uncle's?" The Crown Prince furrowed his brow in concern.

"The whole family's a nest of beetlelizards," Prince Ozai fended him off, not hiding his disgust for the Da household. "And this isn't just about me."

Prince Iroh did not seem convinced.

"Perhaps not, but punishing Chan for a personal vendetta against someone else..."

Mouth twisting, the second prince retorted bitterly, "Maybe if those above the age of, say, one-and-a-half would have paid more attention last time, I wouldn't have a vendetta, and Mother wouldn't have--"

When he abruptly reigned in his temper, an uncomfortable silence followed. Glancing around at everyone else, Prince Ozai smiled thinly.

"I'm sorry you had to witness our brotherly quarrel." To Prince Iroh he continued in a low voice, "Relax--I'm not going to do anything very drastic to him—and after that fireball game, he did give us a score to settle with him personally," he added in grim humor.

"You're right," the Crown Prince conceded, smiling to show his good will. "I guess I'm just afraid to ask how you define 'not very drastic.'"

"At least you'll be there to keep an eye on me, like you said," the younger prince lightly reassured him.

"And I doubt Ozai will do anything too drastic while Ursa's around," Zhao put in. "At least, not to Chan..."

The prince granted him a withering look, as at an inside joke that he did not appreciate.

Enthralled by her imagination, Ting Yan had completely missed the change of subject.

"Wow, going with your love to the lair of the enemy, to avenge your mother! How romantic..."

"You'd make a good career with the Players," Dai observed, as Prince Ozai stared at Ting Yan in unreadable surprise.

"I always liked them, when my aunt took us to see them," said the latter, once more cheerfully failing to get the point. "I didn't mind not getting to see them last night, though—I'm glad Ursa got to be with Prince Ozai instead!"

Uncertainly Piandao reiterated, "Yes, Your Highness, I'm...glad as well to see that you two are happy together. It would have saddened me for Ursa not to have a prince who...valued her."

With understated irony, Prince Ozai accepted his well-wishing.

"I'm glad to know I meet your standards." Then he looked at Zhao. "As to your question about revenge, don't worry: Team Royal and Company will take down Chan and Peng Mao, in our not-too-drastic way."

"It sounds exciting!" Ting Yan enthused. "But wouldn't it sound more valiant to say 'Team Princes and Company'?"

"Perhaps it would," he acknowledged in gracious amusement, "but I was counting Ursa as a royal, and she certainly isn't a prince."

Indignant, Zhao protested, "Then why don't you count me as a royal? I'm your best friend!"

Regally aloof, Prince Ozai delivered a friendly, biting snub.

"I don't count you because Iroh and I don't have a sister, and even if we did, we wouldn't let her marry the likes of you. Right, big brother?"

Taken by surprise, the Crown Prince delicately removed himself from the debate.

"Ah...no comment."

"Oh, no—what time is it?" Wildly Dai looked around, as though expecting a sundial to materialize out of thin air. "Come on, Ursa—we have to get ready!"

"But the party's not for an hour-and-a-half," the noblewoman pointed out, but to no avail.

"And we have no time to lose! Come on!"

As Dai and Ting Yan dragged away their friend, Prince Ozai slightly widened his eyes, perhaps concealing fascinated horror at the imminent rites of feminine preparation.

"Good luck coming through in one piece, turtleduck."

"Thank you," Ursa breathlessly managed, but didn't get a chance to say anything else before she was ushered into the girls' wing.

When the three of them had finished bathing, dressing, and (most importantly) clothing Ursa in her new raiment, they led her over to the mirror. Reflected back was a breathtaking apparition—but an unfamiliar one. Edged with gold, a deep red bodice left her shoulders bare, and a graceful skirt flowed to her knees. A jeweled fire lily held back Ursa's hair, and her friends said Prince Iroh had given them the hairpin for his future sister. Inwardly the noblewoman made a note to thank him, although she likely wouldn't have a chance till after the party.

Unusually hushed, Ting Yan breathed, "You look like...a princess."

Pleased with their handiwork, Dai smiled.

"You do look fit for any prince."

Still reconciling the vision in the looking glass with hesitant creature she knew, the noblewoman shrugged.

"I suppose so."

"Stop that, Ursa," Dai admonished firmly. "You're Prince Ozai's princess, and he thinks you're worth something, so you should be proud."

"You're so lucky," sighed Ting Yan once more. "I know I said I wasn't thinking about marrying either of the princes, but I'm kind of maybe a little...jealous."

"And Zhao and Piandao are jealous of the prince," Dai informed Ursa. "They're happy for you two, but it's plain they can't help envying him."

Finding this hard to believe, the noblewoman looked back in the mirror, where an unfamiliar princess sparkled.

"But...I'm nothing special."

"Yes, you are!" Ting Yan contradicted her benignly.

Although Dai's expression gave away a touch of sadness, none of it reached her voice.

"And more importantly, Prince Ozai thinks so."

Aglow with the fairytale atmosphere, Ursa let herself believe them.

"Yes...he does."

-

* * *

-

Once again, we're waiting around while the girls take their sweet time getting ready. It makes me wonder what spectacular getup Dai and Ting Yan have planned for Ursa...

Why is my heart pounding so fast at the thought of my girl in a pretty dress? I'm not a schoolboy—I graduated from the Academy years ago.

However, I have come to a rather...disturbing realization. (Oh look! Another one!) I guess I really am, despite my initial, long-held denial..._journaling_ in this book. You know what this means? To add insult to injury, I've lost that battle too!

But I'm not gracing my "journal" with that name. Iroh says lots of noblemen keep "personal journals," but I'd prefer something that didn't make me want to throw up. Zhao suggested "man-book," but I got my displeasure across to him with the "Eyebrow of Death" (as my brother calls it when I skeptically raise one).

Know what? I'll call this my plotbook. That was its original purpose, after all. I started writing here to help me scheme up a solution to The Ursa Dilemma.

And here I am, plotting to kiss her tonight.

-

* * *

-

In order to seem the perfect party guests (and perhaps lull the opposition into a false sense of security), Prince Ozai reasoned that they should arrive fashionably late rather than awkwardly early. So when they showed up on Chan's doorstep, the young people could see other attendees enjoying themselves within the spacious beach house.

Acting the cool host, Chan motioned them inside.

"Come on in...there's food over there, so just...mill around and try to act normal."

"Good luck," snickered Peng Mao, a step behind his friend. So saying, both both forsook them for less undesirable guests.

"Like we'll need luck," Zhao scoffed at their retreating backs.

At a nod from their young, hotheaded mastermind, the "Team Royal and Company" began socializing with the teenagers around them, trying to divert attention from themselves until the time came for...whatever Prince Ozai decided it was time for. Armed with flirting skills and boundless energy, Ting Yan kidnapped Dai for the purpose of meeting "the local hotties," and Piandao struck up a conversation with a fellow student of swordsmanship.

Regarding the table of refreshments from afar in polite interest, Prince Iroh made an exciting discovery.

"Ah, it seems they have fried duck!"

His own eyes lighting up, Zhao started for the table with the prince in tow.

"Awesome--let's go check it out!"

As Ursa looked around for a suitable conversation partner, Prince Ozai lightly touched her arm. Following his chilly gaze, the noblewoman saw Chan approaching them.

"Pretty neat, huh?" their host inquired, sweeping his eyes over his party and house.

"I suppose," the prince allowed dismissively.

Skeptically Chan sized him up.

"So you've seen better bashes than this?"

"A few."

Tapping his chin, their host appeared to reconsider his foe.

"You must have cooler friends than I thought."

Obviously enjoying his charade as a harmless noble, Prince Ozai hid scorn as well as ever in good-humored condescension.

"Or I have royal friends, which amounts to the same thing. A few weeks back there was a pretty awesome banquet at the palace. That's where I last saw your uncle."

"So, your parents must be pretty high-ranking," Chan surmised, a challenge in his mild tone.

"Oh, they are," smirked the prince. "My father is, anyway. To borrow your metaphor, he pretty much 'rules.'"

"What does he rule-- the court?" joked Chan, with a fake laugh that would have done his uncle proud.

"Among other things," elaborated Prince Ozai, a sideways glance inviting Ursa to share his secret mirth.

In a strange echo of another party, Lord Chao's nephew also took notice of her, and once again she had the impression of being prey. This time, however, the noblewoman had an ally not just in the second prince, but in her beloved.

"You know, Zai," began their host casually, "I've been wanting to ask you: who's this pretty little lady you've got here?"

"This is Lady Ursa, my girlfriend," the prince told him coolly. As the noblewoman felt her cheeks grow warm in shy pleasure at the word "girlfriend," the royal laid an arm across her shoulders. Whether protective or possessive, she welcomed the gesture—the line between those two qualities often blurred with her betrothed-to-be.

"I gotcha." Despite his savvy nod, Chan clearly wasn't surrendering yet. Offhandedly he changed the subject to his noble lineage.

"As it happens, I come from a long line of admirals—four generations, and I'll be the fifth."

Unruffled, the prince topped him.

"My family passes down an important office, too, and we've held it since basically the dawn of time."

Although his eyes narrowed briefly, Chan quickly let it drop and continued trying to impress Ursa.

"I'm actually pretty good at firebending—I can beat most of the guys here when we spar."

Smiling to bare his fangs (and his love for battle), the pantherwolf revealed airily, "Once someone crossed me and it took the servants a month to clean up all the ashes." Despite his apparent callousness, the prince's hand brushed reassuringly against Ursa's shoulder, cautioning her not to take at face value the threats and boasts in a game of wills.

Convinced to take him more seriously, Chan on the other hand appeared to regroup before flaunting his ego again.

"I was in the top of my class at the fire academy."

"How old are you?"

"I turned seventeen four months ago," the nobleman suavely bragged.

Disinterested, the prince easily surpassed him again.

"You're a year behind me, then. I was also top of my class."

Frustrated by having a more-than-worthy opponent, their host switched tactics.

"So...you been at court very long?"

"All my life."

"Do you know the princes very well?" asked Chan, watching intently for the other's reaction.

"Actually, yes," affirmed his royal guest, seeming to find the younger boy insultingly trivial.

Affecting superiority, Chan all but sneered, "That's too bad. I've heard—from someone who knows—that the Crown Prince's younger brother is an arrogant hothead, and we should all be glad he's not in line for the throne."

His voice silky and dangerous, Prince Ozai smoothly warned, "I'm sorry to hear you feel that way, because I've heard—from a doubtless more reliable source—that it takes a fool to cross the Fire Lord's second son."

Pleased at finally getting a rise out of his opponent, Chan carelessly threw self-preservation to the winds.

"Yeah, well, he doesn't have much power anyway. I mean, he's not even in line for the throne."

"He's still the third-highest ranking in the nation," the prince countered, giving the other boy a look that would have cowed a stone wall.

Unfortunately, Chan's dispassionate insolence left no room even for the survival instinct of a rock.

"So what? Your high-ranking friend is just a backup plan—the Fire Lord doesn't need two heirs.

With a terrifying smile, the secondborn offered him one more chance.

"Be careful what you say, Chan. You never know what might reach the wrong ears."

"I'm not afraid of him," the nobleman boasted recklessly.

"How unfortunate." Pitiless beneath their soft tone, the words promised retribution."Come, Ursa." Assuring Chan with an unconcerned smile that he could afford to wait for victory, Prince Ozai escorted his princess away.

Dropping the battle for now, the prince looked apologetically down at her as they walked away.

"I'm sorry about our clash with the little snotball. Did I bore you?"

"Oh—no, it was...quite interesting," she replied. Although it disturbed her at times, Ursa had realized it was rather fascinating to watch her prince calmly take down his foolish adversaries.

"Are you hungry?" asked the prince in question, his gentlemanly concern causing the noblewoman's heart to flutter.

"A little, I suppose."

"I'll find you some food," he decided.

They spotted Ursa's friends in the entrance to a little hallway that led to a balcony, and the royal led her over to Dai and Ting Yan.

In mock severity, he admonished, "Watch her for me, okay?"

When they earnestly complied, Prince Ozai left Ursa in the other girls' care. Sadly, Ting Yan did not take the charge as seriously she should have.

"Oh, look--there's that guy who, according to this girl I met just now, owns his very own kimono shop! I've got to go ask him if it's true!"

Biting her lip, Dai looked anxiously back to Ursa as their friend danced away.

"Oh, dear—I think that's the son of my father's overseer, and so I'd better go stop her from annoying him. _Please_ don't let the prince kill me for leaving you."

As Ursa promised to avert her prince's wrath as best she could, Dai took off after Ting Yan with surprising speed for one so ladylike.

Hardly had they disappeared into the crowds when Chan sauntered over to the future princess.

"Hey there, sweet cheeks--how ya likin' this party?"

Reddening both from confusion and his lack of propriety, she took refuge in good manners.

"Um—it's quite nice, thank you."

Apparently misinterpreting her blush, Chan boldly remarked, "I gotta tell you, I'm not too keen on your boyfriend over there."

_I'll bet you aren't._ As Prince Ozai did with such skill, Ursa tried to conceal her true thoughts behind a distant, cordial mask.

"I think you could do better than that," Chan presumed cockily, and the noblewoman merely found distasteful the arrogance that was endearing in Zhao and classy in the younger prince.

With charming subtlety that would have made the latter proud, Ursa spurned her unwanted suitor.

"Thanks you, but I'm perfectly happy with my boyfriend." Although strange and new, it felt surprisingly natural to call him that.

Taking a step forward, Chan blocked the doorway back into the main room.

"I think you should reconsider."

Taking a step back, Ursa discovered herself cornered against a turn in the hallway.

"What are you saying?" she asked a bit shakily.

Casually he spread his hand on the wall above Ursa's shoulder, leaning over her.

"Be my girlfriend. Together, we could totally dominate the beach."

"I'm not interested in dominating anything." Although she struggled to sound brave, it came out as a frightened whimper.

"I'll just have to change that." Like a cheap imitation of the noblewoman's roguishly debonair betrothed, Chan moved in for a kiss--

--and was bodily hauled away by a stony, wrathful Prince with blazing, flame-colored eyes.

"What...have...you..._done?_" he growled in a deadly voice.

"Nothing, I--" Stumbling out onto the balcony, Chan lost his balance and fell heavily to the floor on his backside.

Advancing with a slow, measured gate, the prince demanded, "Is that how you define assaulting Ursa?"

"I wasn't assaulting her--" the guilty one protested, staring up at his judge in fear.

"Then explain to me why you were hitting on my girlfriend."

"I was just...talking to her," he lied desperately, his wild gaze begging silently that Ursa defend him.

Giving Chan a brief respite from his unforgiving scrutiny, Prince Ozai turned as well to the noblewoman.

"Is this true?"

Mutely his princess shook her head, and the interrogation resumed.

"Liar!" the prince spat at the nobleman. "It's just what I'd expect from the conniving scum of the Da family, who have never shown real loyalty to my father!"

"But we are loyal to—wait... Your father?" he repeated, faltering in confusion.

With steely, cold-blooded relish, Lord Azulon's secondborn knelt down to stare Chan in the eye.

"You don't know who I am? Haven't I dropped enough hints?"

His mind seeming to race, their host nervously wet his lips.

"You mean...your real name isn't 'Zai'?"

"It is. Part of it." As the nobleman concentrated harder, sweat glistening on his forehead, the merciless inferno gaze never wavered.

"Think hard, Chan. Tell me who I am. You've already insulted my temper--now feel its burning fury."

" Your temper? I never—it's _you_?" he gasped, eyes bulging in horror.

"My name. Say it."

"P-Prince Ozai?"

"Correct. Now beg me for mercy," he ordered relentlessly.

Sniveling now, the other boy stammered, "I-I'm sorry...Your Highness!"

"Too bad." His voice completely devoid of feeling, the firebender raised a fist as though to strike...

...but something frail and soft restrained it, and he looked back to see Ursa standing suddenly beside him, her fingers curled around his wrist.

"Prince Ozai—don't." Despite Chan's wrongs against herself, the noblewoman had darted forward on an impulse, moved by his pitiful cowering.

After holding her gaze for an eternity, the prince deliberately lowered his hand.

As Chan's tense form collapsed in relief, Prince Ozai asked quietly, "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"Huh?"

"Get down and thank Lady Ursa for her intercession!" barked the prince, startling the nobleman into action.

As Chan repositioned himself on the floor to kowtow, Prince Ozai stilled Ursa's protests that no such abasement was necessary.

"Hush, darling. It's the only way scum like this will learn to respect royalty."

Leaving the nobleman in debased solitude, the prince and his princess returned to the front room.

Loud enough so that everyone could hear, Prince Ozai called his brother by his true name.

"Iroh. Ursa and I are leaving—our host had the audacity to make advances to the bride-to-be of a prince."

As the other guests muttered among themselves in astonishment, the Crown Prince looked at the couple with startled disquiet.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Did you destroy him, then, Ozai?" he asked, grave and perhaps a little sad, as though clarifying the inevitable.

"Just enough to let him feel the wrath of the Crown, elder brother." His gaze moved to encompass their friends and the murmuring onlookers.

"Stay and party if you like. We've had enough of this place."

Turning on his heel, the prince led Ursa from the somber atmosphere behind them.

As the moonlight shimmered on the restless waves like liquid silver, they walked along the shore a little ways. Out here, the conflict with Chan seemed distant and unable to touch them. Still, the encounter had its toll—especially, Ursa noticed, on her companion.

"Always, always second," groaned the prince in anguished rage, half to himself. "Secondborn, second best, always second to Iroh!"

"Not to me," Ursa promised him softly. "Never to me."

"I don't understand," he puzzled distractedly. "I shouldn't care what that overweening scoundrel thinks, but it...gets to me."

Aching to heal her unsung phoenix, the noblewoman fought to subdue the rampant adulation and empathy that would only frighten him away.

Cautiously she assured him, "Whatever he thinks...isn't what I think."

Hungrily the golden eyes searched her own, impenetrable and heart-stoppingly beautiful.

"What do you think, Ursa?"

Her own eyes shining, the future princess slowly relinquished herself to the spell of that gaze.

"Ever since I first saw you again, that day you were training with Prince Iroh—oh, my prince, I've thought you were wonderful! I didn't realize at first that I...had started to like you, but I noticed how strong and handsome you were, and how good at firebending." Feeling blood rush to her cheeks, she strove to differentiate herself from his army of fangirls.

"But it wasn't just that. You're so...noble, and regal—and charming, when you want to me. Still, it's like you're wearing this opaque mask all the time, and I...wondered what was behind it. You fascinated me."

Looking utterly bewildered, Prince Ozai seemed caught in Ursa's own enchantment.

"Somehow you're taking that mask off, turtleduck. I don't know why, but...I can't hide from you."

"I can't hide from you either, even though I'm usually so timid." Proving her inability to keep the truth from him, the future princess unleashed her heart's full devotion.

"Oh, but I love your almost-smile that comes when you're amused, and the way you capture me with your eyes, like you're doing now. I can't look away—they're like a...golden bonfire, and they just hold me there."

At mention of it, the half-smile teased his mouth upward.

"You sound pretty captivated."

"I can't help it," sighed the enamored butterflymoth. "You make me feel so brave, and full of _feeling_, that I just have to express myself.'

Prince Ozai grinned slyly.

"I like it when you express yourself."

As she laughed more for happiness than anything else, Ursa reflected, "Even when you scorned me, I couldn't push you from my heart, no matter how I tried to forget you. You kept...bewitching me, and now I'm under your spell."

"That's funny," contemplated the prince, "because you did the same thing to me. I would have exiled you from my thoughts, but you just kept calling me back." His voice growing even gentler, he confessed as one lost in a vision, "I love that shy smile of yours, the melting gaze that you save just for me, the shimmer of the moonlight on your hair..." Worlds away, he lifted a hand to wind his fingers in one lock of midnight satin.

"You look so beautiful, my princess, and I don't mean just that pretty dress."

At his touch, Ursa all but swooned inside herself, wishing this moment would never end. Forming an accompaniment to their reverie, a swell of stirring, lyrical music flowed down to them from Chan's beach house. Apparently a band of performers had been enlisted for the party, and was now beginning their show. Glancing up the hill, Prince Ozai smirked impishly.

"That's some band there. You know what I think?"

"I can hardly guess, lord prince," she humored him.

"I think we should dance," he purred, stepping close.

"What?" came her eloquent, startled reply.

"Will you dance with me, Ursa?" the royal pressed, half formal and half in jest.

"But...your grandfather banned it, didn't he?" she protested, but without true resistance.

He gave a slow, wicked smile.

"And who says I'm a good little prince?" Catching her arms, Prince Ozai began turning the noblewoman in a circle, facing her.

"It isn't like we're committing treason--and by the way, Iroh taught me most of what I know about dancing. Come on, Ursa: dance with me," he commanded playfully.

"I will, my prince—but...I don't know how."

"I'll teach you."

They moved together, flowing as one to the mysterious, blood-quickening strains of melody. Like a life-size doll, Ursa bowed and leapt beneath her teacher's gentle, shaping touch. The moonlit night giving them surreal grace, their footprints created an intricate pattern in the black sulfur sand. Sometimes their limbs slowly bent and stretched like undulating kelp in the ocean, and sometimes they quickened their steps to surge like seafoam, pure yet sensuous in their forbidden dance.

At last they slowed to swaying, Ursa leaning back against her prince, and his arms around her.

"Oh," breathed the princess-to-be.

"What is it, darling?" he probed, voice roughened with unaccustomed meekness.

Barely audible, she unveiled her self-doubt.

"I don't see how you could love me, Prince Ozai."

His breath warm against her ear, he spoke, at once both wry and tender.

"You still don't think you're special, huh?"

"I don't see how I could be."

Low and purposeful, his resolve melted over her, conquering all hesitation.

"Then I'll prove to you my devotion."

Before she knew what was happening, the prince came around to face his bride-to-be, lifted up her chin, and claimed her mouth with his own. At Ursa's sweet, startled gasp, he took deeper control, circling his arms snugly around her waist. Overcome by his untamed ferocity like that of fire, all the noblewoman could do was stay on her feet.

As his worshipful, ruthless conquest enraptured her, a lightning bolt epiphany sparkled through her veins. Enveloping, setting ablaze Ursa's very being, Prince Ozai's fiery spirit and blistering passion was searing away the cold, dark ocean that had drowned the future princess for so long. Now the light-starved butterflymoth clung to her shining, otherworldly candle, welcoming his savage sweetness although she had not the strength to return it.

At last breaking her first kiss with a fairytale prince, he released the noblewoman, his lips sliding down her jaw and neck to bury his head in her shoulder.

Eyes half-closed in bliss, Ursa twined her fingers in the veil of silken shadow that fell about his face.

"Ozai, Ozai..." she crooned, forgetting the title in her adoration.

"Ursa, my Ursa..." Voice as insubstantial and sighing as his mouth had been fierce, the prince brought up a hand to cup her cheek.

Caught up in a realm that seemed too unearthly and fantastical to belong to her, the noblewoman felt her vision blur.

"Ozai, will it always be like this? Have we found our happy ending?"

"Yes." As he lifted his head to nuzzle her temple, his tone was again roughened by some foreign emotion.

"Pretend we have." The prince drew Ursa into another kiss, now savoring and dreamlike.

-

* * *

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A/N: And thus we come to the end of Part 1, meaning we're halfway through. Next is the, let's say, action/adventure part, which is going to be exciting but terrifying to write (because I have only a vague idea of what happens, and so I have to do some major plot bunny hunting).

I'm sorry for the wait--real life caught up to me. ;) I'm not sure if I'll update quite as quickly now as i did at first, but I'll try not to leave you hanging too long.

Was the party scene worth the wait, TrueThinker? Hope so--I tried. There were, of course, a lot of references in that sequence to the show, such as the "bored/hungry/find some food" exchange. By the way, peoples, I got the term "personal journal" from "Excerpts from the Diary of Princess Ursa" by Karalora (ironically it's the "personal journal" of Prince Ozai), and the sparring match was influenced somewhat by "Sons of the Golden Flame" by Karynna. Both are excellent fanfics, and I highly recommend them.

Yes, I finally got to write an Urzai kiss! *swoons* Yeah, Ting Yan isn't the only one who's jealous... Speaking of which, the chapter title came from a couple lines in song I wrote about Ursa:

"A stolen kiss, forbidden dance

One crimson lily, a lost romance"

I thought this couplet really seemed to fit the past couple of chapters, since they have all the things the couplet mentions. (The crimson lily, of course, was at the end of the last chapter). The song is called "The Minstrel with the Mandolin," and it's in my Urzai collection of poems, if you want to read it.

Question of the chapter: With all this talk of treachery and intrigue, what's your guess as to the next direction the story takes? I'd be happy to read and reply (enigmatically ;) ) to any speculations, but I'll settle for a nonspeculative review as well. lol Hope you enjoyed!


	10. A Prince's Ransom

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait! This one still has romance and fluff, but also humor and action and mystery (oh my!), so hopefully I struck a good balance. Without further ado, I give you...Part Two.**

**-**

* * *

-

I'm not just a coward--I'm an idiot, too.

I mean, what was I thinking, acting nervous or reluctant, or whatever it was, about kissing her? Ursa and I took a little walk on the beach last night, and I finally tasted those sweet lips of hers. I won't regale you with the gory details—sorry, not a chance, although there were _plenty_—but I will say that sparks flew almost literally, me being a firebender and all, and we'll just leave it at that.

Just a sec—I've been told Iroh wants to see me.

* * *

Great. More secrets. More half-truths. Not that his secretly jealous little brother is any one to talk, but still...

Yeah, so I went downstairs to find Iroh heading out the door.

"And where might you be going in such a hurry?" It had to be something urgent, or he would have come to bother me himself, in person.

"Father has asked me to visit General Hui Lo, Head of National Intelligence," he explained, fastening his traveling cloak. "It seems they've found a lead on the plots, so I'm taking an hour's ship ride to Sheng Tao Island."

I looked at him skeptically, still smelling a secret untold.

"Should I compose a letter thanking Father for getting you out of my hair, or have I spoken too soon?"

"Nice try, but I'll only be gone for a couple days," chuckled my brother. "I'm leaving you in charge, though, so look after the others while I'm away."

"Sure, I'll just babysit the kids for you, so long as I get paid..." my sardonic comment trailed off as Iroh held up a scrolled tied with a silky red ribbon, and emblazoned with the Royal Flame. He was practically smirking for joy, so naturally I did my best to conceal my curiosity.

"Am I supposed to know what that is?" I inquired coolly.

"This...is your future!" he proclaimed dramatically, waving the scroll tantalizingly under my nose.

"Is that so?" I made a show of ignoring him (and watched the important missive like a hawk with my peripheral vision).

"This is only a copy made for us, but I think you'll be very happy to hear the news," wisely conjectured my brother, roughening his voice so he sounded like an ancient, venerable Fire Sage.

"Then tell me," I hinted in exasperation.

Unrolling the document, he assumed an authoritative stance and began to read:

"Let it be known that Longwei of the line of Roku, and Ri his wife, in loyalty and dutiful obedience Azulon of the line of Agni..."

He was enjoying every minute of it—so much for Iroh the Compassionate, eh, big brother? I tapped my foot impatiently. Just get to the point!

"...consent to give the hand of their daughter, Ursa of the line of Roku, in marriage to--"

I snatched the parchment out of his hand.

"Told you," he told me smugly. Because there are few things more awkward than being informed of and congratulated u[on your betrothal by your older brother, I shrugged off the news that made me feel as though I could take on the entire Earth Kingdom singlehandedly.

Shes—_mine..._

Enough with the mushiness, or I'll go all melty again. Although I could have poured over the evidence of our promised union for hours, I gave it a quick scan and then glanced disinterestedly back up at my informer.

"Thanks for the memo."

Iroh shook his head, smiling.

"You're welcome, little brother." As he walked out the doorway, though, he met my eyes once more, and all trace of humor had vanished.

"I'll send word if anything particularly interesting happens. Don't do anything too drastic in the meantime. And Ozai...be careful."

Whatever you say, big brother. I may be a Fire Nation prince, all grown up and firebending literally fit to kill, but does that mean I can take care of myself? Apparently not. I tell you, being treated like a child is really starting to get..._annoying_...

...Hence the smoke that was starting to rise from that torch over on the wall just now. But I've calmed down now, so we're good—I won't be staining ceiling with nasty black soot.

You wanna know what I was thinking of to calm down my scary temper? This is going to sound incredibly naïve and lover-ish, but...yep, it was my now officially promised bride that saved the ceiling beams. I must really be in love, if I go all mellow and fluttery just by thinking of my girl. Now that we're actually betrothed, do you realize what this means? It means I know for certain I'll get to do _so_ much more than kiss her, one of these first days...

Before I drift off into giddy mental victory dances, I think I'll go have breakfast conjured up for my princess and me, and amuse myself with ancient records of dear old Grand-Daddy Sozin's antics with, you know, some comet or other while I wait for Ursa to wake up.

-

* * *

-

Despite everyone's late night, Ursa still woke before the others. Eventually she and Prince Ozai had wandered back to the house, talking in the moonlit garden until the others were safely asleep and unable to press them for details. For a while the noblewoman lay in bed, gazing at the morning sky and dreaming of a stolen kiss, a forbidden dance, and one crimson lily.

When thought of a particular secondborn prince turned her inner dawn to gold, Ursa rose and went looking for him. Obeying a hunch, she climbed to Lady Ilah's cozy, elegant parlor on the second floor, now bathed in the pearly luminescence of new sunshine. There she found her beloved, pouring over a dusty scroll, and kneeling beside a low table laid with breakfast for two.

At her approach, Prince Ozai looked up with a quirky smile.

"I was rather hoping you would join me."

As Ursa took her place beside him, the royal poured tea for them both. Failing as always to adequately describe her pleasure and surprise, the noblewoman let an observation of no real consequence slip from her instead.

"I thought you didn't like tea."

With a twitch of his lips, the prince acknowledged her remark.

"I don't advertise my tolerance for it—not after growing up with the Obsessive Tea Lover. But in truth, I don't necessarily mind drinking tea. Just don't tell anyone," he commanded solemnly, taking a sip.

"Your secret is safe, lord prince," the future princess assured him with downcast eyes, and tasted her own tea.

During their light repast of fruits and pastries, Ursa's eye fell on the old document, now carefully set aside, that Prince Ozai had been studying at first.

"What are you reading?" she asked with interest.

"Dry, old records from ancient battles," he ruefully admitted. "Since childhood, military texts have fascinated me, but they'd probably bore you silly."

"Most likely," agreed the noblewoman sheepishly. "But then, I don't suppose you'd like fairytales." Even after their evening full of romance and mystery, she found it surprisingly easy to talk to him. Still, her senses felt heightened, as though to better take in the prince's face and voice—and each winning smile and witty remark set her aflutter, as they did when next he spoke.

"I like fairytales if they involve crazy spirit magic and epic battles. Just not romance...unless I'm one of the participants, of course," he amended with a knowing half-smile.

She blushed, and silence ensued—until they both started talking at once.

"You first," offered Ursa in the following awkward pause.

"All right then. I was going to say that I've been meaning to kiss you for a while now, and I was rather hoping..." With that look of shared, secret laughter, Prince Ozai melted her heart. "...that you were as pleased with the result as I was."

"Oh—yes, I...I was." This time her lowered gaze was no pretense, and so she didn't see the firebender reach across to lift up her chin. The memory of that same gesture (and its aftermath) on a silvery beach sent a jolt of electricity through her, and unable to do otherwise, the future princess let his molten stare claim her own.

Prince Ozai regarded her in friendly curiosity, which a mischievous tilt of his mouth belied.

"Ursa darling, have you ever kissed anyone before?"

Although her cheeks burned, the sun-colored fire in his eyes made them seem icy by contrast.

"No...only you."

Looking pleased, the prince slyly determined, "In that case, we'll have to practice." At the moment, however, he pursued the subject no further, and returned to their meal while the noblewoman calmed her nerves (with little success).

"Did you like that book I told you about yesterday? You seemed quite engrossed when I found you," he commented with a savvy expression.

"Oh, yes," she responded in delight. "I love wonderstories and ancient legends."

"There are many more on these shelves—my mother liked them, too. Feel free to read anything you find here," invited the prince offhandedly.

"Thank you." Gathering her courage, Ursa inquired after his own interests. "Are there any tales you enjoy, besides military accounts?"

Tapping his chin, Prince Ozai took a moment to ponder, before replying with an impish grin.

"I like it when the bad guys are punished with awesome retribution." Ruefully he chuckled. "You aren't so keen on that kind of thing, are you?"

"I...never enjoy hearing about war and judgment," the noblewoman confessed.

"So I've gathered," he replied, and she abruptly recalled their confrontation with Chan last night the party. "You aren't alone in loving mercy—so does my brother, of course." While an unfamiliar listener would have heard no insult in the prince's tone, knowing of the brothers' history made Ursa wonder.

Unable to bear losing the respect of her betrothed, she hastened to make amends.

"Prince Ozai—I don't mean to say that justice isn't necessary...because it is, I know--"

"I'm not accusing you, turtleduck," he soothed, and then paused, his face briefly shadowed. "Last night—did I upset you?"

"A little, yes," she admitted, remembering the promise of honesty.

Seeming genuinely puzzled, the prince studied her intently.

"I don't understand—Chan very nearly assaulted you, and yet you interceded for him. Will you tell me why?"

Twisting a lock of hair in her fingers, Ursa groped for an explanation.

"I just...he looked so pitiful—I had no idea what you would do to him. You're rather terrifying when you're angry, you know," she added apologetically.

Brow furrowing in quandary, he slid her that sideways glance she knew so well.

"Normally I'd take that as a compliment, but with you...I'm not so sure it is." Becoming graver, Prince Ozai warned, "You know it's dangerous to be easily moved by wretched appearance."

"Yes, I suppose it could let others take advantage of you," the noblewoman thought aloud, to show that she took his advice to heart.

"And on the battle field, it could get you killed," the prince delivered bleakly. When Ursa's eyes flew towards his, suddenly wide, he elaborated, "You've seen the glorious parades and majestic horn calls here in the Fire Nation. That isn't what it really looks like, out there." Gaze turning inward, he brutally recounted the truth. "Blood and grime, carcasses mangled beyond recognition, dying screams and charred bones and the smoke of battle: these are the true price of victory."

No longer hungry, Ursa stared down at her plate.

"It sounds...terrible. I know would never be able to endure such things."

"Then be glad that women are not compelled to serve," Prince Ozai gently enjoined. "But I have seen boys who... Suffice it to say that not everyone is like Iroh. My brother may be sentimental, but he's hardheaded enough to weather the war. Usually, that is." The firebender looked away, his voice revealing nothing. "I have seen even him unable to hold back tears, when the carnage is especially horrific."

Now strangely untouched by the horror of his words, curiosity drew her forward as one spellbound.

"And you?"

Restlessly he shifted, seeming reluctant to answer.

"I have very few sensibilities, or at least they're dormant concerning...mercy and empathy. So yeah, I can take the heat." This last the prince added carelessly, as though to shrug off their weighty conversation, but another question compelled Ursa not to let the subject go just yet.

"What if you couldn't...take it?"

Becoming thoughtful, he answered with a childlike straightforwardness.

"I'd get kicked out of the army. Or killed. That's what happens to most who can't stand it." Briefly his face darkened. "But I am not weak. I have faced horrors you cannot imagine, and I have killed seasoned warriors on a bloody battleground."

Suppressing a shudder, Ursa consoled his pride.

"I don't think you're weak. I can see that a Fire Prince must possess great strength, and you do."

Nodding, Prince Ozai affirmed, "The Royal Family is leading our people in this war--we're soldiers as well as rulers."

Every child had heard bedtime stories of the Fire Lord and his sons, and their victories against the lowly savages in the Earth Kingdom and the Water Tribes. Now that Ursa was promised to one of the princes, however, the struggle for world conquest seemed more real to her.

"If I may ask...what do you think of the war, of Fire Lord Sozin's vision to spread our greatness to the world?"

As in their very first conversation in the royal gardens, reminiscence of their age-old quest for dominion brought a faraway look to the prince's eyes, along with a gleam of reckless, exultant triumph.

"It is our glorious destiny, and our solemn duty, to bring the whole world under Fire Nation rule. Only then can it be reborn as the greatest empire that history has ever known." Coming back to the world of the living, he questioned her evenly in turn.

"And what do you think of the war, Roku's granddaughter?"

Taken by surprise, she scrambled to show her support of his family's ideals.

"I...I believe it is a high goal, and I honor those who lead us to it."

"No fair," he rebuked her lightly. "You know how to stoke my ego, but I don't know how to flatter you."

Flustered, Ursa disclosed, "You do it very well, just by—I mean, your attempts so far have been very..."

"...flattering?"

"Yes," she affirmed in a small voice, feeling shy but happy.

Half in earnest, he vowed, "Then I pledge to you all the perseverance of a warrior, a firebender, and a prince."

"Oh, my dear prince...I mean, that is--" To hide her shining gaze, the noblewoman tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.. "I shall repay it with..."

Curious once again, Prince Ozai leaned toward his princess, cupping her face in his hands.

"With what shall you repay me?" Amidst the swarm of butteflymoths he let loose inside her, for some reason Ursa remembered the guileless young prince in the portrait, so fiercely eager to serve his nation.

Selfconscious but determined, she wholeheartedly promised her world away to the only one who mattered.

"Everything...that is mine to give."

Seeming at once satisfied with and troubled by her response, Prince Ozai answered with his familiar, somber magnetism.

"A commendable reply from a subject to her monarch's son..." In his eyes, a stormcloud passed momentarily over the sun, but then it met Ursa's own gaze almost fondly, as his thumb caressed her cheekbone. "...and a promise worthy of treasuring from a woman to her betrothed."

Heart stilled in blissful tenderness, the noblewoman stumbled over her response.

"My Ozai, you're too wonderf—that is to say, I am honored, although...you must remember we aren't betrothed quite yet."

"Are we not?' he asked idly, hands releasing her as he stretched his arms and leaned back on them.

Astonished, she stared at him.

He stared back, raising an eyebrow as his mouth curved upward.

"It's quite simple, Ursa—the question is this: would you like me to keep calling you my 'girlfriend,' or shall I refer to you as my fiancee?" He pretended to consider. "Then there's always 'turtleduck,' which avoids the issue entirely..."

While a rush of powerful, unnamed emotion swept around the future princess's heart—still only "future"?--her mind struggled to catch up.

"But if I'm your fiancee, that would mean..."

"You got it, turtleduck. As of two days ago, when the papers were finally signed, we're official."

Head spinning, Ursa giddily clarified, "You mean, I'm officially engaged to be...your wife?"

"'Fraid so," he confirmed, somehow managing to look both smug and teasingly regretful. "Iroh told me this morning when the messenger hawk arrived. So now there's really no way we can get out of you joining the Royal Family."

"'Princess Ursa,'" breathed his betrothed, feeling bewildered despite the time she'd had to get used to the idea. "It sounds so...strange."

"I think it sounds lovely," Prince Ozai contended, a strange, fierce depth in his bonfire gaze. The flames lightened, dancing with inward laughter. "Of course, technically, your title changes now, due to legal formalities. If you want, though, I'll cow everyone into keeping your old title for now."

Ursa threw him a startled glance, and blushed.

"Oh yes, I think I will keep the old one. I'm not ready to be called 'Princess.'"

"Nonetheless, you are one," the prince alleged softly, adding with quiet pride, "Welcome to the family."

Somewhere in the no-longer-future princess's middle, a spray of whitehot sparks set her tingling. She opened her mouth to speak, and then hesitated.

Having finished eating, Prince Ozai absently picked up the scroll, and began turning it over in the fingers of one hand.

"Spit it out, darling."

Words failing her (again), Ursa leaned toward the prince and flung her arms around his neck, almost crushing the yellowed parchment. Quickly her betrothed returned the military document to its former resting place, and then caught his princess and pulled her into his lap, where she snuggled against his chest.

"I take it you're happy?" he inquired, looking exactly like an owlcat with a bowl of cream.

"Of course I am!" the noblewoman squealed ecstatically, not caring a bit how much she sounded like Ting Yan.

"So am I," the firebender pronounced contentedly, laying his cheek against her head. "I should warn you, though: Stay away from strange girls."

"What do you mean?" she asked in puzzlement, half laughing.

Silencing bride-to-be with a finger across her lips, Prince Ozai gravely continued, "The word of our betrothal will have gone out to the gossip-hungry multitudes—you're famous now, turtleduck. And because of your new status, all my fangirls will be green with envy."

Bemused and a trifle embarrassed, Ursa giggled.

In mock severity, the prince frowned at her.

"It's hardly a laughing matter. I have all the dangerous fangirls and none of the nice ones, unlike my saintly elder brother."

"Does that mean I'm dangerous, too ?" queried the noblewoman, innocently widening her eyes.

Slyly Prince Ozai stroked his chin.

"I think it means you have potential. I may yet bring out the bad girl in you."

After contemplating this, Ursa gave her consent.

"As long as we're not murdering anyone or committing treason, I have no objections."

"Kiss me, little bride, and we'll call it a deal."

Obediently she turned her face upward to him,and melted as Prince Ozai commemorated their moonlit stroll.

-

* * *

-

After they had whiled away most of the morning in close proximity to each other, the prince and princess came downstairs to the airy front sitting room, where the other girls knelt on two of the cushions strewn on the floor. Through the large windows, the sky still shone bright and clear, but a foreboding mass of stormclouds darkened the horizon out to sea.

Engaged in a quiet, animated discussion, Dai and Ting Yan gave a start when they noticed the newcomers. As a suspiciously guilty look fought with expressions of keen interest in their faces, Ursa inwardly debated whether she wanted to immediately reveal her confirmed betrothal, or cherish the secret a while longer—assuming it could still be considered a secret when all of Prince Ozai's fangirls already knew.

Sweeping into the room with his betrothed on his arm, said prince smoothly halted each girl's dilemma.

"Good morning, ladies," he acknowledged the other two graciously.

"Good morning, you two!" Ting Yan cheerily greeted him and Ursa.

"Do sit down," offered Dai, motioning to the spare cushions around them. So they shared one, the prince's arm around the noblewoman's waist.

"And what are you girls up to, may I ask?" Prince Ozai pleasantly inquired of Ursa's friends.

"We were just conversing," Dai responded evasively, shooting Ursa a glance that promised another interrogation would be forthcoming. Apparently catching the look, the prince decided to speed up the process.

"I see. As it happens, so were my princess and I."

"We'd tell you what we were talking about," Ting Yan nervously volunteered, "but...um, it'd be awkward to do it with you here, instead of just Ursa." Now it was her turn to have Dai send her a pointed look.

"I'm sorry to hear that," murmured Prince Ozai regretfully, "because our news is...quite fascinating."

"Ooh, what is it?" Ting Yan zoned in on the hinted new intelligence, her face lighting up.

"I'd love to tell you," he drawled, "but I'm afraid it might be 'awkward'. Right, Ursa?"

"Very awkward, my prince," she confirmed seriously, content to let her betrothed 'bring out the bad girl' in half-teasing payment for all the past interrogations by her friends.

"We'll die if you don't tell us!" Ting Yan cried in anguish.

"Be respectful!" hissed Dai in a tone that suggested that Ting Yan would die in any case.

"Tell you what--we'll make a trade," proposed the royal. "You tell us what you were talking about, and we'll reveal our secret."

Ting Yan looked pleadingly at Dai. Seemingly resigned to the inevitable, the latter shook her head, but held a glint of humor in her eye.

"Fair enough, Your Highness."

"All right. We're royal, or near enough--" Discreetly the prince wound his fingers in Ursa's, to remind her of their secret tidings. "--and so we employ the right to..._suggest_ that you go first."

"Very well," Dai began. "We... you tell them, Ting Yan." Indomitable as the quiet, determined noblewoman could be, courage failed her in confessing "girl talk" to one of the highest-ranking men in the nation.

Ting Yan, on the other hand, spoke even faster than normal in a flurry of excitement.

"Actually, what we were talking about was...a question we wanted to ask you."

The prince held up a hand for silence.

"Ah, but it follows that we would have to reveal two things to you while you tell us hardly any, and I hardly think that conforms to our agreement."

His betrothed laid her free hand on the arm around her waist.

"I think we ought to show mercy, since it's a special occasion." While rescuing Ting Yan, Ursa guiltily enjoyed heightening her friends' curiosity by dropping more hints.

"An excellent point," acquiesced Prince Ozai. Deep in his chest, the princess felt an inaudible rumble, as her efforts at tantalizing amused him. "Proceed, then, loyal minion."

"When you two left the party, we wondered...if anything especially romantic happened." At Ting Yan's failed attempts at subtlety, Dai looked as though she were itching to slap a palm to her forehead (or perhaps to the other girl's forehead).

Obviously relishing the suspense, the royal prolonged his listeners' agony with unmoved nonchalance.

"We walked. We talked. We...appreciated from afar the band that showed up. You'll doubtless get the sappy details from Ursa later." At the covert look of reproach she threw him for leaving her that job, he quipped, "Sorry, turtleduck."

Then he leaned forward, forcing her to do the same.

"Be that as it may, I do have one juicy tidbit for you."

As the others moved closer, the firebender dished with a conspiratorial air.

"For being new at it, your friend here isn't a bad kisser."

"Prince Ozai!" Once again Ursa's betrothed had set her face on fire without bending at all. As for her friends, Dai's jaw dropped, and for once, words not contain Ting Yan's squeal of delirium.

"Relax, darling—take it as a compliment," the prince encouraged lazily, straightening his back to a more comfortable position.

Having recovered somewhat from hearing about the latest development in Ursa's love life, the sharp-minded Dai held Prince Ozai to his word.

"Since Your Highness seems, as you said, inclined to show mercy, may we inquire after your part of the bargain?"

"You may, seeing as we have promised. Why don't you do the honors, princess?" Alert to his use of Ursa's new title, her friends went stone still in anticipation.

With the inward happiness bubbling out of her, the prince's beloved couldn't help but smile.

"We're officially engaged. We received the news this morning."

The room erupted as other two converged on them. Surprisingly emotional, Dai hugged Ursa with a motherly fierceness, and Ting Yan nearly strangled Prince Ozai, cheering at the top of her lungs right next to his ear. Strangely enough, he didn't seem to mind, and even gave his princess a bemused grin, for once not constrained to appear proud and regal.

"Ursa, I'm so happy for you," Dai congratulated her, sounding choked up. "To have made such an honorable match, with such a--"

"—such a wonderful, _handsome_ prince! I'm sooo jealous of you!" Ting Yan gaily let slip, causing Prince Ozai's smirk to broaden. Just as he broke her ecstatic stranglehold by wrapping a possessive arm around her, and raised his eyebrows at his vaguely disconcerted betrothed, Zhao walked in.

"What's all the...commotion?"

Completely unruffled, the prince looked up.

"Oh, hey, Zhao. We've just been having some girl talk."

Whether more disturbed by the scene before him, by his friend's explanation, or both in equal amounts, the nobleman averted eyes and muttered, "To think you were worried about me wearing ruffles."

Perking up, Ting Yan started to scramble to her feet, a question obviously on her tongue. Evidently not finished with his "girl time," Prince Ozai refused to let go of her. Otherwise, however, he looked straight ahead with an innocent enough expression—except that his mouth had begun curving wickedly. While Ursa and Dai shot him glares half in earnest, Ting Yan reconciled herself quite happily to one of the few chances she would get to enjoy such proximity to one of her beloved firebender princes. Leaning against his shoulder, the flighty noblewoman voiced her inquiry to the increasingly perturbed Zhao.

"What do you mean, 'wearing ruffles'? I thought it was Prince Iroh who said they were on the other apron he could have worn, but didn't, a couple days ago."

"Long story—sometimes our sparring matches get..." Zhao fell silent, appearing reluctant to add any more awkwardness to the atmosphere.

"...interesting." Leaving them to contemplate this revelation, the prince went on glibly, "So, what have you been up to, sparring partner?"

"I've been answering another letter from my parents." He made a face. "They're worried the rumors of potential treason will pose a threat to my safety. They congratulate you two on your engagement, though."

"Give them my thanks," Prince Ozai directed regally, and then looked disapproving. "And remind your parents that they should feel honored by their son's desire to stand beside the princes, especially in our time of need."

"I live but to serve you, lord prince." With a mocking bow, the nobleman dropped himself on to a couch that faced them. "But seriously, what is all this about? Stories of evil plots have been running all over the court, but I haven't heard anything for sure."

"Neither have I—only hints and ladies' gossip," agreed Dai. "Is there something of which we should be aware?" Because their concern made the potential threat seem more real, Ursa listened closely now.

Despite the prince's casual reply, his princess and possibly Ting Yan felt his shoulders stiffen.

"I suspect has something to do with Iroh's so-called paperwork, but you know how it is--as usual, he and Father won't tell me much."

"What do you know, then?" asked Ting Yan, seeming fully engrossed in their tales of intrigue.

"Only that someone's out to get us, and my brother hopes they're nearing an answer." He let out a frustrated sigh, and the arm around his princess drew her tighter against him, as if to ward away the mysteries and danger. "Iroh told us to be careful, especially for Ursa's sake. She's more vulnerable to...threat, now that she's officially my betrothed."

Looking as though he were trying not to laugh, Zhao nullified the serious tone of this conjecture.

"If Ursa's your betrothed, then why are Dai and Ting Yan sticking to you like a fangirl's lipstick to her heartthrob's handkerchief?"

Affecting surprise, Prince Ozai modestly surmised, "I guess they just can't help themselves."

When Dai immediately scrambled away from the royal couple, managing to drag Ting Yan away from her captor in the process, the firebender longsufferingly confessed, "When Ursa's absolutely _charming_ friends--" He sent a peeved frown at the traitors who had abandoned him. "--heard the news of our engagement, they deemed a group hug the most fitting celebration. I'm sorry you had to miss it," he added regretfully.

"I'm not," Zhao firmly maintained.

"Just admit it," coaxed the prince in scoffing amusement. "You know you can't resist me."

"Nah, I'll leave it to the ladies to fawn over you," the nobleman dismissed him, stretching out so that he took up the whole couch.

While the princess-to-be debated whether to laugh or scream (along with Dai, from the looks of her), Ting Yan darkened the mood once more.

"Is Ursa really in danger?"

"She might be." A grave enigma, Prince Ozai wound his free arm around her too, as though to shield her from harm by will alone.

"Then we'll look after her," the other two girls promised sincerely, and Zhao nodded. Although touched by the gesture, Ursa felt more stifled than grateful, as though her new station had already shut her in.

"Thank you, but...I'm fine, really," she declined as courteously as she could. "Please don't trouble yourself on my account."

For her ears alone, the prince softly chided, "You must learn to bear the gilded cage, my turtleduck, at least for now. It won't keep us in forever."

Coincidentally, Zhao chose that moment to express dissatisfaction with his present surroundings.

"I'm sick of being stuck in here. Does anyone else want to drop in on Piandao?"

"It looks like there's a storm on the way," Prince Ozai pointed out.

"So? I'm not afraid of a little storm," declared the nobleman with bravado. "Besides, if it breaks while we're over there, maybe we'll get to stay for dinner! Who's with me?"

"We could all go," suggested Ting Yan. "That way, all of us will be near Ursa in case she needs us."

"Good idea," the royal commended her mildly, and his princess laid aside her discomfort at the thought of everyone taking care of her like a little child. When the prince rose to his feet, everyone followed suit, and he favored them with an assured smile.

"Minus the future Fire Lord, let's get Team Awesome back together."

-

* * *

-

As it was past noon, they decided to eat lunch before visiting the apprentice swordsman. Besides, as the prince pointed out, that would give them more chance of actually being invited to stay for supper, thus fulfilling Zhao's hope.

Piandao lived closer to town than did the Royal Family (at Zhao's friendly questioning, he had revealed the location of his family's summer home), so the teenagers strolled along in a talkative herd along the beachside road, laughing off the forebodings of treachery. When they neared more places of residence, people seemed to look at Ursa differently, as their future princess—or perhaps it was just her imagination.

One person's reaction, however, was frighteningly real. Soon they passed by an abandoned storehouse not far from the road, in which the roof had fallen in. In the far corner, they noticed a boy talking secretively with knot of strange men. Oddly, his companions wore dark clothing, rather than the usual Fire Nation red. The young man looked around, and both he and Ursa gave a start of recognition as she heard a sharp intake of breath from the others.

It was Chan. After the surprise faded from his expression, he sent them a smoldering glare of resentment and dislike. Feeling the arm across her shoulders draw her onward, Ursa looked up to see Prince Ozai meet fire with ice in his own hawklike stare--steely, cold, and unrecognizable. One last time the princess looked back at their enemy from the party. He was speaking to the strangers again, and she could have sworn he was smirking.

Shivering, the noblewoman drew closer to her prince, welcoming his protection. Perhaps his concern was also possessiveness—the line between them truly did always blur, at least wit them—but she was his, after all, and he cared for her. More to the point, Ursa wanted Prince Ozai to lay claim to her, as someone to hold under his wing.

-

* * *

-

When they reached Piandao's front doorstep, the princess still couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.

Brazenly Zhao marched up to knock on the door, and jovially greeted the white-haired serving woman who answered.

"Hi, there—all of us have come with Prince Ozai to hang out with Piandao, if he's around."

"Right this way, young master and mistresses, and Your Highness." Bowing gracefully, she led them spryly to the courtyard in back. Here Piandao was practicing complicated sequences with his sword, sweat dripping in his concentration.

When the serving woman respectfully took her leave, the apprentice swordsman finished his routine. Realizing that he wasn't alone, he lowered the weapon.

"Hello." Although perhaps a bit self-conscious, he looked pleasantly surprised to see them.

Seeming impressed, Prince Ozai queried, "What's this I hear about you possessing little skill in swordsmanship?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, Piandao avoided the prince's approving gaze.

"I'm not, really."

"On the contrary. He's quite good, isn't he, Zhao?"

"Definitely," the nobleman backed him up. "In fact, I think you could hold your own in a sparring match against Ozai and me."

"Let's have a three way fight then," the royal decided with a young warrior's carefree vehemence. As he and Zhao swiftly discarded their outer robes, the prince even found a way to include the girls.

"And while we're at it, Dai and Ting Yan, why don't you two each cheer for someone. Sorry, boys--Ursa's taken," he added with a sly grin at his princess.

"No problem, old married guy," Zhao blithely disrespected him. Letting Ursa know that Piandao had heard the news of her engagement, the swordsman sent her a smile of congratulations.

"Hey Dai, want to cheer for me?" Zhao offered magnanimously.

Demurely flirtatious, the statuesque noblewoman hid her initial surprise.

"I'd _love_ to."

"That means I get to cheer for Piandao!" Ting Yan reasoned enthusiastically.

"I'm happy to hear it," the young swordsman thanked her with a touch of gentle humor.

"So, you ready to blaze?" Prince Ozai challenged wolfishly, igniting a red-hot sphere just above his right hand.

So the battle commenced in sparkling flame and flashing metal. From the sidelines, Dai and Ursa soon resolved to cast aside their usual reserve, so as not to let Ting Yan outdo them in exuberance. Whether distracting or empowering, their cheers garnered appreciative responses from the participants. Zhao winked at a suddenly pink-cheeked Dai as he attempted to bend his element into a fiery sword, and Piandao actually grinned at Ting Yan as he blocked the clumsy, energy-consuming weapon with his own skillful blade. Pausing to leave the other two locked in mortal combat, the royal firebender blew a princely kiss at Ursa, and then ferociously scattered his opponents with a blazing onslaught.

At length the girls were joined by a tall, elegant woman who introduced herself as Piandao's mother, Lady Huilang. She invited them inside for a cup of tea, and although Ursa could have watched her prince forever, she and the others accepted the offer and followed their hostess inside.

After leading them to an airy parlor with curtains of pale lavender, Lady Huilang poured them tea from a tray that the old serving woman had brought to them. For a few minutes, they sipped in silence, and although Piandao had told Ursa of his adoption, she could still detect a resemblance in him to this woman: a quiet soul, but insightful and courteous.

Now the lady of the house looked keenly but kindly at the princess.

"You must be Ursa."

"Yes, I am," she replied, startled.

"You are a good friend to Piandao," Lady Huilang told her. "He speaks highly of you."

"It is I who should thank your son," the noblewoman protested. "I am grateful for his friendship."

"All of us have valued it," Dai reflected wisely.

"And you must be Dai, and you Ting Yan," guessed their hostess with a smile.

"You already know our names!" exclaimed Ting Yan, delighted. "Piandao must have described us."

"He did," laughed Lady Huilang, "but even so, I would have heard your names, as the two close friends of our future princess."

"You know already?" queried Ursa in surprise. "The messenger hawk came to us only this morning with a copy of the official document." A moment later she remembered Piandao's smile in the courtyard. Of course his mother would have heard as well.

"Word travels fast, especially on such a monumental subject as the engagement of a prince."

"Oh," said the princess in what she hoped was a pleasant-sounding tone. Unavoidable though it might be, she still had mixed feelings about her wonderful secret being shared with the world.

"From my observation of you—forgive me—during the sparring match, it seems you are happy with your betrothal," their hostess shrewdly observed.

Ursa blushed, but spoke with quiet pride.

"Prince Ozai is good to me."

"I am glad," Lady Huilang approved. "Every young woman should receive kindness from her betrothed, and I am raising Piandao to be courteous."

In the comfortable pause that followed, Ting Yan burst out, "Ursa's going to be a princess so soon! I can hardly believe it.

"You will have much responsibility as a prince's wife," concurred their hostess.

"I don't know for sure that I'm ready," confessed the princess. "I am thankful we have a few years before I must take on my new role."

Arching an inquiring eyebrow, Lady Huilang observed, "You are unlike most girls I have met, who would relish such a rise in status."

"You are right—I am not like many others," attested Ursa, growing a little irritated. "I grew up on a remote island in the country, and I am truthfully a little daunted by palace life."

"Then you harbor no disappointment that you caught the eye of a second son?" probed their hostess carefully. "I hear so many young women speak only of pursuing the Crown Prince, because they 'won't settle for anything less.'"

Her tone softly purposeful, the princess-to-be set down her cup with more force than she had meant to.

"Prince Ozai is secondborn. I do not consider him second best as a consequence."

As Dai and Ting Yan murmured their agreement, Lady Huilang briefly inclined her head, as though Ursa had passed some test.

"You are wise, then, and I am happy that our younger prince is spared a power-hungry bride."

"You will have to watch out for the other girls, though," Dai cautioned, echoing Prince Ozai. "Believe me—I know from Mother and from experience that noblewoman aren't always as..._ladylike_ as one might wish."

After defending her beloved, Ursa still felt confident and fearless.

"I'm not afraid of ambitious girls who care only for a prince's rank and wealth."

"That is well," Lady Huilang commended her, taking another sip of tea, and then became serious. "Have you heard the rumors of intrigue and treachery at court? They will concern you, as a part of the Royal Family."

"We heard a little about it from Prince Ozai," Ting Yan answered for her. "Do you know anything about it?"

For her part, Dai appeared disdainful.

"Whispered gossip of that sort always buzzes among the nobles. It's doubtless nothing to worry about, as long as we take reasonable precautions."

"This time, it seems that whispers are the least of it," Piandao's mother informed them heavily.

"What do you mean?" asked Ursa.

"There are those who seek to gain control over the princes by subterfuge," Lady Huilang clarified, and the other noblewomen shifted nervously.

"But the princes...they're almost invincible," countered the princess. "I hardly see how anyone could pose a true threat to them."

"If the arrow misses Lord Azulon's sons, the next shot will aim for you," their hostess stated abruptly, adding in a softer tone, "This is why you must be careful."

"Prince Ozai will protect me." For some bizarre reason, the words sounded hollow, like a child's tin shield against a grown warrior.

Lady Huilang fixed her with an uncomfortably penetrating gaze.

"Yes, he will, as long as you are important to him."

"I am," insisted Ursa, refusing to let unfounded anxiety get the best of her.

"But will it be enough?" Lady Huilang wondered quietly, half to herself. When the princess gave no response, their hostess unexpectedly changed the subject.

"And what if Prince Ozai is the one that needs protection, unlikely as it seems? Will you be able to give it?"

Although Lady Huilang's personal questions had unsettled Ursa before, now they led her to an unshakable conviction.

"I will do whatever it takes to protect my prince."

With a strange urgency, the lady of the house persisted, "A ruler's second son may succumb to his need for power—it has happened before. What then, if jealousy prevails?"

"He can betray me, banish me, or even kill me—I will not forsake him." With this certainty established, the princess felt oddly at peace.

Breaking the tense mood, Lady Huilang smiled at them.

"Wait here—there is something I wish to give you."

While they waited, the white-haired serving woman came in through the front door. Through the doorway, Ursa caught sight of a fluffy, bedraggled owlkitten huddled in the shrubbery outside. As she watched it mewing pitifully, ruffling it's fur and wingfeathers against the chill wind that preceded the coming storm, the noblewoman remembered a similar pet she had kept fondly on Hai Fen Island.

Resolving to help the poor creature if she could, Ursa jumped up and asked the serving woman, "Excuse me—does that owlkitten belong to someone who lives here?"

The woman looked where she pointed, and shook her head.

"No, dear, it just enjoys the owlcatnip in my mistress's gardens, along with a bowl or two of cream from the young master."

"Not to presume, but would Lady Huilang mind very much if I brought it inside? It's about to rain, you see," she justified her request.

"Then cease your chattering and go bring in the poor silly thing," the old woman adjured with a wave of her hand, moving aside to let Ursa pass.

The noblewoman bobbed her head obediently, with a "Yes, ma'am," and raced to the rescue. Unfortunately, her swift approach frightened the owlkitten, which bristled its fur with a hiss like a teakettle and made a dash for the cobblestone street. Unwilling to give up her mission of benevolence, Ursa ran after it along the road into town, while a stiff breezed whipped her robes and hair beneath the heavy grey sky.

The noblewoman lost track of time as she chased the winged feline through the maze of streets and buildings—but then she sped around yet another nameless, stony corner, and inexplicably, the owlkitten had vanished. Finally taking note of her unfamiliar surroundings, now grown menacing in the pre-storm twilight, Ursa felt an icy chill run down her spine that had nothing to do with the wind. As she anxiously searched for the way back to Piandao's house, the first drop of rain plunked onto the dusty street.

-

* * *

-

Ozai--

Wherever you are, keep everyone together, and stay around as many other people as you can. I know you can take care of yourself, but this is serious. You see, last night Hui Lo's agents arrested a man carrying several suspicious documents, which seem to contain messages to and from our enemies. Hui Lo requested my aid in searching them for clues.

Catching the messenger had posed a challenge—he didn't want to be caught, and tried to fend them off--so today we scoured the site for missing papers that might have been lost in the fray. One in particular that we found concerns us greatly, although the elements had rendered it mostly illegible.

Whoever is behind this has a very well-formed plan. I can't tell you much more, but some sort of coup is scheduled to happen _very soon_, maybe even on Ember Island. The document also refers to "the new princess," and certainly not with benevolent intent.

This isn't good—I'm worried about you, little brother. And I'm sorry I kept so many secrets, sorry I'm still keeping them. I vowed to Father that I would, because our efforts to prevent this treachery might otherwise prove in vain. Possibly we failed even so.

Stay safe, and may Agni keep you. I'm coming home tonight, and would sooner if I were not absolutely convinced that Father and Hui Lo need me here, because my place is with my younger brother and sister when they need me.

Don't let Ursa out of your sight.

--Iroh

-

* * *

-

By now the day had darkened almost to night, and the stinging rain pelted down in glistening sheets. Soaked and muddy, Ursa slipped on the slick cobblestones as she searched in vain for the way she had come. Amidst her misery and fear, the noblewoman realized with a start that a cloaked figure, his face obscured by the rain and a deep hood, was following her at a brisk pace.

Ursa struggled to walk faster, but her pursuer also quickened his footsteps. Breaking into a run, the princess careened into a side alley—and found herself staring at a dead end.

Before anything could register besides blank disbelief, strong arms encircled her gently, and a well-loved voice sighed in relief by her ear.

"Ursa, thank Agni I've found you." Sobbing in relief, she wriggled around to face her rescuer and clutched tightly at his robes.

Prince Ozai wrapped his cloak warmly around the noblewoman as well, to shield them both from the rain, but he sounded furious.

"What were you thinking? Why did you run off like that?"

Abashed, she stammered, "I--I heard an owlkitten mewing outside, and...I went out to bring it in."

"You came all the way into town just for an owlkitten?" he questioned in stern incredulity. "Do you know how dangerous it is now, especially for you?"

Ursa bit back tears as humiliation took the place of terror.

"Prince Ozai...I'm sorry. I meant no harm."

"I know," he relented, moving a hand comfortingly down her shoulder. "You just gave us a scare, that's all. Come on—we'll get back Piandao's house, so the others can stop wondering why I didn't come back when I ran out to get you." As they began walking, the prince threw a swift glance over his shoulder, and Ursa's sense of unease returned to haunt her.

"Is there...something wrong?"

In a low tone, he revealed the danger that he had downplayed earlier, to save her own peace of mind.

"When Zhao, Piandao and I were sparring, Huilang called me inside, and gave me a letter that had just come from Iroh. He's returning home a lot sooner than planned, because...something came up. After reading it, I came out to check on you girls, but of course you weren't there. You remember our vaguely infamous rumors of treachery?"

Although the princess's heart was racing, an icy, surreal tranquility held her in its frosty grip.

"I do remember."

"This morning Iroh left to confer with the Head of National Intelligence, who had intercepted a messenger with incriminating documents on him. He put up a good fight, but some of the papers got scattered. That's why my brother traveled over there--to retrieve them, and help General Hui Lo search for clues." His impersonal tone made the threat seem distant, like a lesson in history or politics.

"Did they find any?" asked Ursa, a good little student (with her heart pounding frantically).

Prince Ozai looked down at her, and for a moment his brow furrowed in seeming regret, as though to seek forgiveness for the inevitable.

"Yes. They deciphered enough to discover that some uncanny mastermind is scheming to gain royal power, and his plan concerns us. That was Iroh's mission, you know, all these weeks," he added almost reflectively. "Father wanted him to find out who was conspiring against us, and bring the traitor to justice."

"What happened?" she whispered, heart in her throat.

"He failed. Their plan, whatever it may be, is already in motion--" Pulling her closer to him, the firebender lengthened his stride. "--which is why I have to get you back to Piandao's house. I won't lose my own battle as well." Hurrying along with his arm around her, Ursa thanked all the spirits for her safety under his wing.

Too late the prince and princess realized they weren't alone.

Out of the rain-spattered murk, shadowy figures materialized, ringing them in and advancing.

"Who are you?" demanded Prince Ozai as the noblewoman clung to him. The newcomers gave no response, except to tighten the circle like a noose.

Lord Azulon's second son drew back his hood, and even in the gloom his eyes flashed golden.

"You dare assault a Fire Nation prince?"

As at some unspoken signal, the black, silent mob converged on them. The rain muted the sounds of the attack and dampened Ursa's voiceless horror, as though she were merely hearing a fight recounted in a legend. Hanging onto her prince like an anchor, she mindlessly flung herself away from the blows and grasping hands that hemmed them in, and the arcs of heavenborne flame that Prince Ozai sent back.

Even for a firebender he fought skillfully, and with a feline's deadly grace. In this moment, however, he had both his princess and himself to defend. Too quickly the fiery counterattack sizzled out in the killing rain, and their opponents were too many, far too many for one teenager to drive away.

The blaze around them faltered, as though its creator knew his bravery had proven futile. When their attackers surged forward and seized them, Ursa cried out as someone yanked back her hair, but a rough hand was clapped over mouth. Dimly she saw them wrestle her prince brutally to the ground, and bind his hands behind his back as they did the same to her.

After hauling the captives to their feet, the strangers herded them in a new direction. In the lighted window of a house nearby, a fluffy owlkitten blinked at them, safe and snug inside.

In the warm glow of that same window, Ursa glimpsed the face of her betrothed, but she could well have seen a mask—it was blank and stony, instead of bloodless and trembling as her own must be. She had no time to wonder, for they reached a line of piers, where a small ironclad ship rested like a ghost on the fathomless waters. Hurriedly their captors dragged them up the lowered entrance ramp and deep down into the cool, metal hallways of its interior, as the prow was lifted up by steam to shut them in.

At last they reached a small, unfurnished room, lit by one red torch on the wall. The strange black-clad men threw their captives unceremoniously inside, and slammed the door behind them. In their makeshift cell, the prince and princess lay still for a moment, and then struggled to find a comfortable sitting position. Leaning against the wall, they listened wordlessly to the creak of footsteps above them, the distant shouts of the crew, and finally the roar of the engine that propelled them out to sea.

None of it struck home, quite yet. The noblewoman stared at the dimness without seeing, still numb with shock.

Head bowed, Prince Ozai hoarsely broke his expressionless silence, sounding as though he were dragging up the words with great effort.

"I'm sorry, Ursa." His weary submission frightened her much more than rage ever could, because the second prince never admitted defeat--never, except in loving the bride he could not refuse.

"I lost."

-

* * *

-

**A/N: Yes, I'm cruel, and I'm sorry (but not really). Suffice it to say, here begins the reason that one of this story's genres is "Drama."**

**It was hard to get all of the culture to sound believable in this chapter (like the wording of the marriage document), and I've been beating my head against the wall trying to figure out the details of what happens plotwise, and how much Iroh and company know about it. Speaking of which, Piandao's mother was acting strange, wasn't she? All I'll say is...remember that she was going to give Ursa something, but never got to (or did she?).**

**I incorporated part of an Urzai song I wrote into this chapter. The phrase "a stolen kiss, a forbidden dance, and one crimson lily" is almost exactly taken from the bridge of my song The Minstrel with the Mandolin, which is in my Urzai poem collection. Also, I like the part where Ozai throws back his hood, because it seems like a moment you'd find in a Zuko fic, what with "eyes flashing golden" and all.**

**I'll try to update before another month has passed, but I'm so busy write now that I honestly don't know when I'll be able to (although I will definitely post at some point). But reviews will help give me an incentive, and will also be greatly appreciated. ;) **

**Question of the chapter: What was Piandao's mother going to give Ursa?**


	11. At High Risk on High Seas

"I lost."

For the space of a thousand moments, those words hung suspended in the air, like the first raindrop of a monsoon. As the small Fire Nation vessel bore them steadily further away from everything dear and familiar, the prince and princess huddled together in silence, waiting for the reality of their capture—the lost battle--to sink in. At length, the torch started burning low, until it gave off only a spooky red dimness. In the black shadows that flickered over her companion's face, Ursa could make out no expression but the blank, staring one she had glimpsed in the light of a glowing window.

Feeling her childhood fear of the dark threaten to rise up and strangle her, the noblewoman begged in a whimper for the strength of her beloved.

"Prince Ozai—the torch is burning out."

No longer weary and broken, his words carried a grave, impersonal wisdom, unmarred by any remotely human emotion.

"Never fear the dark with a firebender." For all the reaction he gave, the proverb could have come from a statue.

"But you can't bend, now," she reminded him helplessly. Hands constricted, like hers, by manacles of iron behind his back, the prince could have summoned his element, but not for any useful purpose.

"No, I cannot," he acknowledged. Although he spoke no further, Prince Ozai turned a fathomless amber gaze to her in what might have been concern. Interpreting it as permission to take refuge in his nearness, Ursa pressed herself closer against him, as though to ward off peril and fear.

Once more they fell into the deep pool of quiet, waiting for their only source of light to die out. Like their abduction, the inexorably deepening darkness seemed like one more element in a waking nightmare. When at least the weak flame expired, gasping out a thin trail of smoke, Ursa bit her lip to hold back a wail of fear and despair. When she buried her face in the prince's shoulder, he gave a weighty sigh and hunched over her protectively, as though to shield his princess from unseen terrors.

When the noblewoman had gathered enough courage to look up, she saw the darkness was not total. Under the doorway and on the metal slats of the ceiling vent, faint glimmers of light played elusively. Worlds away from the sunlit world promised by those pale glints, Ursa tried not to panic.

"What is going to happen to us?" she asked the firebender, sounding terrified and frail in the ship's huge blackness of metal and steam.

As if to himself, Prince Ozai softly recited, "Never give in, for death is but glory eternal."

With a sob and a sharp gasp, the princess let fear pull the words out of her quickly.

"I don't want to die."

Preoccupied with some lofty dilemma of honor and pride, the royal seemed not to hear her.

"I thought believing that would give me power and bravery," he mused in perplexity, "but instead, like a coward, I shrink away from the thought of crossing to the spirit world."

While shaken by the undisguised quandary of her fearless, confident prince, Ursa managed to lull her racing heartbeat into frozen tranquility.

"Will we go there, to the spirit world?" she questioned, childlike and forlorn.

"It shouldn't be this way," contended the firebender, his voice low but filled with conviction and pain. "I will not perish unsung and in shadow, as I have lived." Now the anger and denial hardened into merciless resolve. "No, I refuse give in. The battle isn't over yet—I will not lose."

In shame, or perhaps in gentleness, the second son hoarsely promised his bride, "I won't fail you again."

In that moonless cell beyond hope and help, the princess's heart still compelled her to reassure him in serene, tender despair.

"Prince Ozai, you didn't fail me."

In the answer he withheld, she heard the bleak resignation: Ursa knew he didn't believe her. Rather than argue their definitions of failure, however, the prince turned his attention to practical matters.

"We need to get out of here, and back to those loyal to my father. Iroh was planning to come back, but obviously too late, and we can't count on him to save us." At the very end, a trace of bitter irony found its way into younger prince's voice. The Crown Prince had tried so hard to keep his little brother and sister safe--yet for all his wisdom and glory, he had failed.

"What should we do?" Although daunted by the prospect of escaping, it relieved the noblewoman beyond words to have the old, assured Prince Ozai back again (or even a careworn echo of him). No matter what the obstacles they faced, the scared little girl in Ursa wanted to believe that her firebender prince could handle the odds.

"I don't know, but I'll work on it." As an afterthought, he advised, "Be forewarned, turtleduck—you may have to perform a task that...upsets your sensibilities."

"I'm strong—I'll do anything you tell me to," she promised earnestly.

Oddly, his contemplative ghost of a laugh sounded both smug and wistful, accepting the inevitable.

"Oh Ursa, how was I foolish enough to think I could stop myself falling for you?"

Then his tone changed, calling them back to the present, and the darkness, with another memory.

"I just remembered--when I came into house, Huilang handed me something to give to you. I can't reach it now, but it was a game piece from Pai Sho."

"A game piece?" she echoed curiously.

"My brother always did stress that it was 'more than just a game,'" the prince imparted wryly, as though to fend off the gloom." One of his particular favorites is a tile with a white flower on it—a lotus. It was that piece which Huilang gave to me."

"Why would she give us the white lotus tile?" queried the princess.

"It obviously possesses some hidden meaning," the royal concluded matter-of-factly. "I can't say more than that for certain, as Iroh hid whole truth from me—he does that. Still, I gathered enough to know that the lotus tile represents some sort of code, or secret group."

"A secret group? Do you—oh, do you think they'd help us?" she asked quickly, afraid to let hope rise up within her, but unable to stop it.

"I'd wager anything that Huilang meant for exactly that to happen." Now that his keen intellect could be put to work constructing a strategy, Prince Ozai sounded relieved to prove his competence by regaining the upper hand in their circumstances. "As soon as you can, take the tile from me—I'd rather know it was in your keeping, and anyway, she gave it to you."

Once again, Ursa noticed, he protecting her any way he could—this time, with an unassuming game piece that held the promise of a benevolent secret society. Now only grateful, she submitted to the shelter of his wings.

"Yes, Prince Ozai."

"Don't call me that," he softly directed. "I should have told you to drop the title as soon as we were betrothed, but now it sounds absolutely ridiculous."

Stepping out of her usual shyness for once, the noblewoman perceived her betrothed (perceived him with her heart, although her eyes could not) no longer as the glittering, enigmatic prince, but simply as the boy she loved, now chained and begrunged in the dark.

"I will...Ozai." For the first time, Ursa deliberately called him by name alone. In that single, fierce combination of syllables dwelt the complete expression of the man himself, all his fears and longings, who reigned in her heart as he never would on the throne.

As though his name on her lips had wakened something in him, the firebender shifted restlessly, and expelled a deep breath. Then he became still, and the princess felt the golden gaze, now invisible, burning into her own.

Like a pebble dropped into dark, glassy waters, the sound of footsteps along the hall outside intruded on their wordless communion, and their haven of indifference to the world.

With a click that echoed ominously in the abyss of silence, the door of their cell unlocked, and one of their kidnappers entered bearing a torch. At first the red-hot glow nearly blinded them, so long accustomed to their artificial dusk. When they could open their eyes without feeling stabs of pain, they saw a tray with a bowl of moldy-looking rice gruel and a tin cup, knocked slightly askew, on the floor beside them (which explained the clatter they had just heard).

"Sorry to leave you royal brats in the dark," leered a big, beefy man with a matted beard and piglike eyes as he stood over them (having removed his black cloth mask from the battle). "Or am I interrupting a..._special_ moment?"

Fiery gaze locked on the one mocking them, Prince Ozai's face hardened in pitiless fury, as though to carry out Agni-borne justice with a heart of ice.

Then he visibly relaxed, and informed the man conversationally, "We were just discussing the ways in which the spirits would see fit to punish you for this treachery."

Their captor chuckled—a sinister, mean-spirited sound. "Treachery?" Expression darkening, he spat, "I haven't betrayed nobody. Your nation of bloodthirsty dog-swine has got no claim on my loyalty--if they deserved any, that is. No, I'm from the Earth Kingdom, and so is the Cap'n and every one of us." All it once it dawned on Ursa that he had changed from the black garments he'd worn during the fight (presuming he'd been involved in their capture), and was now roughly clad in the dull green and brown hues of another nation.

Considering that their status had abruptly changed from victims of a aristocratic bid for power to prisoners of war, Prince Ozai and his betrothed really hid their surprise very well. The prince even pulled his wits together for a idly sarcastic retort.

"So, you've resorted to kidnapping teenagers, because the big strong firebenders are too scary for you?"

"Listen, you...accursed hoodlum, we just follow orders, or he'll--" Catching himself, the man threatened, "Just you wait—you'll be sorry your barbaric nation ever set foot beyond your own miserable borders."

Crisp and professional, the prince ignored the threat as if it posed no more danger than a child's fearful protests.

"Would you care to inform us of more details concerning this marvelous scheme of yours?"

"You won't get any more out of me," the Earth Kingdom man deterred him knowingly, and then began to gloat. "Just wait—you'll know soon enough."

As their captor left, taking the glaring torchlight with him, the firebender called in a taunting, sing-song voice, "The hoodlum is going to kill you. Really—I am."

When door clanged hollowly shut, the royal threw back his head, and it hit the steel wall with a dull thud. Through clenched teeth, he let out a sharp hiss, either of pain or frustration (or both).

After regaining his composure, Prince Ozai remarked, "I'm not sure how they expect us to eat that sorry excuse for sustenance in in the dark, with our hands shackled behind us. Oh, well—it didn't look very appetizing anyway." Beneath the lighthearted wit, hint of exhaustion and stark realism gave his voice a ragged edge.

For her part, Ursa preferred to remain close by her prince rather than move to obtain the dubious meal, despite the faint pangs of hunger beginning to gnaw at her belly. Evidently guessing her wish, the firebender laid his head on her own, and she nestled snugly against him.

As she thought back over their only human contact since boarding the ship, a new perception troubled her.

"He said we would 'know soon enough.' What does that mean?"

"Either they'll kindly reveal their plans for our future, or said plan will simply demonstrate the future course of our lives," explained the prince. "I'm afraid will have to wait and see. Speaking of finding things out, I'm going to ask you to sit up for a moment—there's something I want to try..."

When Ursa complied, she heard a slight rustling that accompanied the royal's movements, with small grunts of exertion or pain escaping him. At last his tense posture eased, and after a small click, she felt his arms come free (the one nearest her, at least). Quietly Prince Ozai set to work on the noblewoman's own bonds, pulling her arms towards the wall against which he had been leaning.

"There we go," he said at length, when her left wrist came out of its shackle.

"What did you do?" cried Ursa in amazement.

Sounding pleased with himself, the prince revealed, "A protruding nail has been poking into my back this whole time, so I thought I'd put it to use. These handcuffs are the cheap kind that can be unlocked with anything sharp, if you know what you're doing—though it's a little harder in the present circumstances.

"Move your arms around in front, and put your free hand back in the open shackle—we have to leave them on, or our abductors will notice. If they're all as idiotic as Thug Man, though, I'd be willing to risk their noticing that our hands are bound in front of us now instead."

With a light touch, the firebender took Ursa's forearm between his thumb and forefinger, and maneuvered it deftly back into place within the shackle. Then he did the same for himself, and proffered his own handcuff for his betrothed to snap it shut.

Although easier in many ways, having their arms in front of them made it rather difficult to cuddle (if it could be called such in their moonless confinement). Nonetheless, for this too Prince Ozai had a solution. First of all, they moved far enough over so that the offending nail would disturb neither of them. Then the firebender slid the circle of his arms over Ursa's head, and pulled her close.

Involuntarily the noblewoman shivered, whether out of lurking trepidation, or because a draft had found its way into their dank confinement, she could not tell. Although she hated the monotony of waiting for some horrific doom, their encounter with the Earth Kingdom man had demonstrated that any change would likely prove a change drastically for the worse. With that in mind, Ursa decided that time could go right ahead and drag out endlessly. At least for the moment, she had Prince—no, just Ozai—here with her.

As though coming to this conclusion released the tension inside her, the princess felt her eyelids grow leaden. Worn out by fear, she sighed sleepily.

"You sound tired," murmured the prince.

"I ah-ah-am," she yawned, suddenly too drained to care about vigilance and danger.

"Then rest. I'll keep watch while you do."

So Ursa slept under his wing, in the dark bowels of an enemy ship—or rather, a Fire Nation ship in the hands of an enemy Kingdom.

-

* * *

-

Her lightless, metal world shifted chaotically as she woke. If not for the firebender's reflexes and strength, she and Ozai would have slid into the opposite wall.

"What's happening?" she cried, heart pounding frantically in her throat.

"The ship just changed course," grunted the prince, seeming knocked out of breath from the sudden tumult. "In these lesser models, or in the hands of an inexperienced captain, a change of course can be quite rough."

Faintly they heard voices up above, calling to each other, either in alarm or exuberance. Otherwise, however, nothing had changed in their timeless ocean of jet black nothingness.

Seeming unable to help himself, Ozai began to laugh. Low at first, it grew to a mirthless, full-throated roar.

"What is it?" asked Ursa, concerned for him (and a bit frightened).

"I never thought to see myself in this situation—it's so absurd," replied the prince between gasps. "Despite the best efforts of Father and Iroh, I've gotten into the deepest trouble I could have found—only this time, my temper and pride had nothing to do with it."

Quieting somewhat, he reflected, "I have voyaged so many times on battleships like this one, and taken captives for my brother, throwing them in a cell like cargo. Yet here I am, a prisoner, and there's nothing I can do. It's as if fate is taunting me," the secondborn added darkly, with the old anger at destiny coming through.

At a loss, the noblewoman listened in silence, wishing she could find the words to appease his mockery of himself and of the world. Perhaps he sensed the expression he could not see.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, a grimace in his voice. "As you may have noticed, I have a tendency to cackle maniacally when losing seems inevitable. I guess I'd rather be the one taunting."

As Ursa mulled this over, the door swung open, blinding them once more. This time, they had no chance to recover, for the man that had come last time had now brought several of his fellow thugs, who prodded the captives to their feet.

"Get up, brats. The Cap'n wants to see you," ordered the one who'd visited earlier. Untangling his chained arms from his princess, Ozai scorched them with his finest regal glare (apparently ignoring the discomfort of the bright torchlight).

Keeping close to him in the midst of their captors, Ursa tried not to think about whatever fate might be waiting for them, or wherever they were going. She heard the men around her vaguely muttering among themselves, but it didn't really register. Soon they emerged above deck under a chilly grey sky, which seemed more brilliant than summer noon to their light-starved eyes.

When they could see without squinting, they noticed several more of their kidnappers grouped around them, clad in green and brown like their current escort. Among these stood a authoritative-looking man with a beaked nose and piercing eyes under bristling brows, whom they could only assume to be the captain.

In a knot to one side, a few other sailors were dressed more flamboyantly, with long wild locks and flashy jewelry. Obviously their leader, a weatherbeaten, middle-aged man wore a wide-brimmed hat with three corners and carried an exotic green reptilebird on one shoulder. At his elbow like a bodyguard, a tan-skinned boy with a gold hoop in one ear, who looked no older than ten, was eyeing them in curious mistrust as he fingered a long, wicked-looking dagger. When the princess met his direct, fiercely loyal gaze, another memory jarred in answer within her. Instead of that angular, olive-toned face, for a moment she stared at the countenance of another fearless, eager young boy, with ivory skin, ebony hair, and eyes of burning gold.

A voice broke into Ursa's reverie, and she turned to watch with Ozai as the Earth Kingdom captain addressed the man with the parrot.

"Well, there you have it: as you can see, we really do have them. Now, will you supply us as promised?"

"For an advance payment, perhaps." Deliberately the parrot owner stepped toward the captives and examined them critically, with his young henchman a step behind.

"Remind me who exactly these kids are." As the grizzled man circled them noiselessly, his air of calculating power made Ursa think yet again of her prince.

Now caged, the pantherwolf answered before the captain could.

"I am a son of the Fire Lord, and prince of my nation. No big deal, really," he added scathingly, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Acknowledging Ozai as an opponent to reckon with, the weathered sailor addressed his next question to the firebender.

"And who's the girl?"

With deadly calm, the prince stared him straight in the eye.

"She is no concern of yours."

As the reptileparrot squawked shrilly, its owner regarded the Earth Kingdom captain with a patronizing expression.

"So, it seems you've done yourself proud and captured a Fire Prince. Why should my poor Wakelooming Serpent brave the high seas to bring you supplies, with only the shady word of a fickle aristocrat for a reward?" Presumably the "Wakelooming Serpent," another, quite different ship floated a little ways off on the undulating waters. Built entirely of wood, with bit of a gold trimming here and there, it raised red sails to the sky--sails that were half folded like a paper fan or a fish's gills.

"Our...employer has a failsafe plan, I assure you. Once he has _collected_ the money, he will pay all of us well. And any enemy of the Royal Family is a friend of mine, wouldn't you agree?" inquired the captain of their abductors, attempting a conspiratorial smirk.

Listening carefully, the firebender arched an eyebrow.

"Nice logic there. You get to collect a big reward, but still remain loyal to your derelict kingdom."

With a black scowl, the captain opened his mouth to retort, but the man with the parrot laughed. "Unlike me and my boys, who's honest about not being loyal to no-one but ourselves and our purses." Looking impressed, he gave the prince an appraising glance. "I like your spirit, boy. We might make a worthy shipmate out of you, if things were different."

Despite grim humor in his face, Ozai kept his tone neutral.

"Thanks, _pirate_, but I'll have to decline." As Ursa started at the name, the prince and the...pirate captain looked at each other with a strange kind of respect.

At an exasperated huff from the young pirate, the captain corrected the firebender's terminology.

"Actually, we prefer to think of ourselves as 'high risk traders'--you can thank the lad here for that one."

"Be that as it may, we have taken the Crown Prince prisoner," the other captain impatiently cut in, "so do you want any more insurance or are you going to uphold your end of the bargain?"

Before Ursa had registered the mistake he made in the title, Ozai went still.

"What did you call me?"

With a show of surprise, the pirate captain answered in almost a fatherly tone, "Why, man, he said he's netted the Fire Lord's heir—isn't that right?" On these last words, he placed an odd weight, and sent a sharp glance at the firebender.

"But of course," smoothly affirmed the secondborn, after a barely perceptible pause. "Gentlemen, you are privileged to stand in the presence of Crown Prince Iroh." Subtly he nudged Ursa with his elbow, and she prayed that her startled gasp had gone unnoticed by their captors.

"And who did you say this young lady was?" queried the pirate cordially.

"My betrothed," Ozai answered quickly. "This is the future Crown Princess...Ming."

"A world of happiness to the both of you," the pirate congratulated them, while Ursa wondered why he could have chosen to (apparently) befriend the firebender and herself, and feared what the man's own agenda might be.

"Thank you." While the prince sounded skeptical, the noblewoman could have sworn that the corner of his mouth twitched upward.

Once more the captain of the thugs asserted his authority, appearing determined to show that he would not be made to look a fool.

"Yes, we've captured His and Her Royal Highness," he reiterated in a jeering tone, "so all that remains is for you and the 'high risk traders' to do your part."

"So it seems," avouched the pirate condescendingly. "You must feel quite accomplished, with these two royal young 'uns shackled in your midst."

"Yes, they stole us practically out from under the Fire Lord's nose," the prince agreed pleasantly. "Really quite maddeningly clever, isn't it?" If he had been a real pantherwolf, Ursa had no doubt he would have bared his fangs. Instead he smiled dangerously.

Looking incensed, the Earth Kingdom captain demanded, "Are you going to do your duty by us or not?"

"Well, I don't know about that," the high risk trader mused evasively. "See, if the war comes closer to an end, then there's less cargo, so to speak, for poor seafarers like me."

Alarm now added to aggravation, the other sailor hastily defended his position.

"But if the war ends, there will be less danger from running into warships at sea."

"Ah, but once the war's over, they'll start caring about things like free waters," pointed out the pirate, seeming to conceal a sneer at the ignorance of the less experienced captain. "And then our trading will develop an even higher risk." As he continued to sidestep the head kidnapper's request, Ursa noticed that the other Earth Kingdom men were sending strange looks towards both herself and the pirates, and muttering among themselves once again.

"Very true," alleged the prince, jumping into the debate as though he belonged there. "As of now, however, my nation is well on its way to winning the war. So by supplying our woefully unprepared captors, you will even the odds and thus prolong the fighting." As he logically supplied the facts, Ozai gave a stern glare to the mutterers, warning them away from...whatever they were planning.

"Yet again, the lad shows an excellent mind," pronounced the pirate, nodding in satisfaction.

"It's always an asset, in the Crown Prince," he replied modestly, but Ursa caught the stress he put on the title. What strategy could he be planning, that called for them to impersonate Prince Iroh and his imaginary bride?

"Well, Captain Bo Kun, you can thank His Highness for winning your case—we'll help you restock your hideout tomorrow," decided the pirate. "At that time, we'll discuss an advance payment. One way or another, your employer will fork over the money he promised, but we've got to have something to live on in the mean time, you see," he explained with an ominous chuckle.

"And now, good day to all of you." Motioning to his shipmates, the seafarer turned to leave.

Captain Bo Kun's wrath evidently not appeased in full, the Earth Kingdom sailor called a last word after the pirate's retreating back.

"You'll get your reward—we stick to our promises, unlike the Fire Nation."

Ignoring the jibe to his countrymen, Ozai shook his head pityingly.

"You have really got to work on your critical thinking skills. By that logic, it follows that your employer, being Fire Nation, is not a man of his word, which in his case is doubtless true."

"And that is a point worthy of consideration." So saying, the pirate halted. After bristling his brows angrily at the prince, the Earth Kingdom captain took up the role of insightful bargainer.

"Our employer is different from the rest of his good-for-nothing nation. That's why he's trying to weaken his depraved government."

"You know what they say: treachery loves company," quipped the firebender, but the cold flame in his eyes condemned the betrayal of fealty.

"I'm not a traitor, you soul-sucking mosquito-fly!" bellowed Captain Bo Kun, before remembering that he had a deal to make with pirates.

Unmoved, Ozai shrugged.

"I may be cruel, but at least I'm honest about it," he countered flatly, and then pressed forward in disgust. "Face it--you can't even be sure he'll pay you. He's got all that money, and power too. Why should he share any of it, let alone with thugs from a kingdom with whom his nation is at war?"

Rubbing his chin, the pirate remarked, "With this kind of talk, it makes me wonder if it's worth the trouble of collecting the wages from your employer if he doesn't pay me right when I ask—which he certainly wouldn't be planning to, if I hadn't done a little persuading."

While Captain Bo Kun spluttered at the "high risk trader," the prince shot Ursa a look of warning. After drawing a deep breath, he exhaled steam onto his handcuffs, so that for a moment they glowed dully red. Then he shoved the burning iron towards the closest guard, who yelped in pain. In the ensuing chaos, the royal viciously attacked everyone within range of his fire, turning the heated manacles into another weapon whenever they constricted his bending.

As the two captains tried in vain to restore order, the princess darted out of the way, watching the fray from beside the ship's side railing, and begging Agni to let no harm came to her prince. Anxiously focused on his safety, she didn't sense the presence behind her until something cold and sharp pricked at her throat.

"Any word out of you, missy, and it will be your last," growled the thug who had first entered their cell.

Frozen in fear, Ursa watched Ozai fight another hopeless battle, unable to tear eyes from him even at a threat to her own life. Surrounded by enemy swords and subservient flames, the firebender glanced briefly in their direction, and perceived the danger to his betrothed.

For an instant, the prince became still as rabirro in a den of dogfoxes. Immediately a host of shining blades were pointed towards his own neck. Although Ozai dropped the struggle, however, Ursa could see the blaze of his anger only growing hotter as he stared at the one dagger threatening someone else.

"If you _dare_ lay one finger on her...!" he snarled ferociously.

"Too late for that—I already have," the thug chortled nastily, tapping the knife.

"And Gang here won't do worse," Captain Bo Kun interceded, "if you're a good boy and behave. You're Fire Nation, so I don't expect much of you, but at least you can follow orders."

Closing his eyes, the firebender twisted his mouth in an inner war that looked even more bitter than the match he'd just fought. Having triumphed inside, he surrendered outside, and let his enemies take control again.

"Let her go," he requested, quietly forceful.

"Well, I don't know about that," the Earth Kingdom captain disregarded him, "as it seems to subdue you very well."

Having kept his own men out of the fray (which could probably account for the tan-skinned boy's look of disappointment), the pirate captain laid a warning hand on the royal's shoulder to stop him from throwing himself at Ursa's captor.

To the thug--Gang by name—the seafarer said reasonably, "There's no need to be harming that pretty throat of hers--I'd hate to see such beauty be put to waste. So why don't we give your employer as much incentive as we can to render all our payments fair and square, by doing nothing to mess up his nice little plan. After all, it's hard to collect a ransom if the your insurance is dead," he pointed out meaningfully, lowering his already deep voice.

Apparently cowed into submission, Gang begrudgingly released Ursa. Half sobbing, she stumbled across the deck and into Ozai's shackled embrace. By now the metal had mostly cooled, but the firebender still held the formerly heated part away from his betrothed when he slipped his arms over and around her.

Burying her face in the prince's chest, the noblewoman felt a light touch as he kissed her head.

Close to her ear, he breathed, "Hush now, darling—you're safe."

When her hysteria quieted, the princess became aware that the pirate captain was speaking.

"That was foolish, young one. What did you plan to do, assuming you could take down a whole crew of Earth Kingdom soldiers--even if they are no better than landlubbers--not to mention getting past myself?"

Seeming resigned to his defeat, the firebender managed to sound good-humored and nonchalant.

"I guess I was banking on your approval of my 'excellent mind.' That and the reward my father would give you for helping us."

"I'll give you points for bravery, but I wouldn't want to wager on your word as the sole difference between a reward and a hanging. Monarchs don't like pirates, and I doubt the Fire Lord is any different." As the noblewoman listened, the pirate began to walk away, but he admonished the other captain one more time as he left.

"I like this lad, so you'd best treat him like the prize hostage he is, or I'll know of it. We can't have your employer making a fuss about our reward simply because he's got no-one left to hold for ransom."

With that, the enigmatic seafarer summoned his men to head back to the Wakelooming Serpent, and Ursa heard the prince murmur wonderingly, "Who'd have thought I'd find an ally in a pirate?"

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When the pirates returned to their vessel, the Earth Kingdom sailors herded the prisoners back to their cell. Once they arrived, however, Ozai demanded that a light be left for them, and a new tray of food, however suspect, be brought, seeing as the last one had knocked aside and its contents spilled when the ship changed course. Now that the prince had proven he could at least cause their abductors considerable pain and mayhem, they respected him (or feared him) enough that they would take greater pains to insure his cooperation.

In the distant part of her mind not overcome by trauma, Ursa suspected that he was exercising this power of fear primarily for her. Since her brush with death, he had not let her out of his arms, despite the difficulty it gave him in walking back to their cell. Probably as another result of the prince's breakout attempt, the Earth Kingdom men posted one of their number outside the door, but since the guard stayed in the hall, the captives ignored him.

When another bowl of rice gruel arrived, the firebender picked it up with his bound hands, and tenderly lifted it to his princess's mouth, to let her swallow the watery concoction bit by bit. After she had taken all the sustenance he could force down her throat, Ozai hungrily gulped down a few mouthfuls for himself. Then he carefully picked up the rough-hewn cup of water, and each of them drank. After their meager breakfast, the firebender reached inside his robes (a process made awkward by the handcuffs) and took out the white lotus tile, which he tucked into Ursa's sash.

For the remainder of the day, she lay limply in his arms, dozing off and on. Cradling his beloved like a child, the prince stayed silent, except to whisper, "I'm sorry, love, so sorry" over and over again.

Hours later, the ship gave another ground-shaking jolt, and the roar of the engines cut off. While Ursa groggily wondered what to make of it, the door swung open to reveal their current guard (thankfully not Gang, as this one was much taller and thinner).

"We've arrived, so get up," the man ordered. Refusing to grace his command with acknowledgement, Ozai gave all his attention to helping his betrothed to her feet. In any other circumstances, the princess's heart would have melted at his concern.

In the hallway, a veritable escort waited for them, ironically like an honor guard. In the gathering dusk, they left the ship through the lowered prow, which made a ramp down to a dripping, tree-lined shore. Nearby Ursa heard Gang grumbling to one of his fellows, the tall, sharp-eyed man who had opened the cell door this last time.

"If we're only going to camp a pitiful distance off in the woods, I don't see why the Cap'n won't let us spend the night in the ship."

With calm neutrality, the other enlightened him.

"Captain doesn't want anyone picking up on our trail, least of all friends of those Fire Nation brats, and getting away from the ship as soon as possible will make it harder to track us."

By all appearances, the stony, lifeless mask had returned to Ozai's countenance, but Ursa watched his eyes narrow as he listened grimly to the snatches of conversation around them. Too despondent to care, the noblewoman let her prince be the one to stay alert, as the brooding eaves of the forest swallowed them up. Here the foliage shielded them from most of the drizzle, but the half-light under the gnarled, black branches made it that much easier to stumble on a protruding root, or slip on rotting leaves.

After a cheerless march of about half an hour, the Earth Kingdom men stopped to make camp in a slightly more open space, where the wide, leafy branches still formed a roof, but forced the trees to grow further apart. While their captors made the fire and bickered over sleeping arrangements, the prince and princess sank down gratefully to the mulch, and leaned their sore backs against a knobby tree.

A few paces away stood the keen-eyed man, acting once more as their guard. Although his bony face give away nothing, he seemed to be concentrating more on the circle around the campfire than on the prisoners, and so they ignored him in turn. Eventually, someone thought to bring the hostages a couple more bowls of the watery stew (not quite rice gruel, this time) that the others had heated up over the fire, and which the royal couple lifted to their mouths and drank without ceremony. After that, however, their abductors thankfully left them alone.

Shivering, the noblewoman laid her head on the shoulder of her betrothed.

In a stricken tone, the prince began, "Ursa, I'm so sorry that--"

"Don't be." Although she possessed too little energy for eloquence, the need to console him was drawn inexorably out of her.

The princess felt Ozai shudder, and his arms shifted a little, as if they longed to return to their customary resting place around her.

"I didn't know—oh, turtleduck, if they had--"

"Ssh," the noblewoman soothed. "They didn't. You saved me."

"I wanted to save you by defeating them and escaping, and I failed again." This judgment rekindled his self-contempt and rage to smolder like a bed of hot coals. "It was foolish--the pirate was right. I had only the vaguest of escape plans beyond possible, and likely improbable, help from him. Even if we did manage to commandeer an evacuation dinghy, it's twice as easy to drown with bound hands, and there was no land in sight..."

"You didn't fail."

Not seeming to hear her, the prince further condemned himself.

"I acted out of pride, like everyone seems to think I do. I hate, _hate_ losing...!" After trailing off, he appeared to register the weary, unresisting heartache in the voice of his betrothed, for his own words conveyed a touch of worry.

"Ursa, is something wrong?"

Like a damp, grey fog, waves of disconsolate melancholy rolled over (or out of) her.

"Maybe...maybe it's supposed to be like this, with no way out."

Instead of urging her to cling to an elusive hope, the firebender gently probed, "What makes you think so, turtleduck?"

"I don't know," she confessed, lower lip trembling as her throat constricted. "This time with you...it seemed to good to be true. Maybe we had to lose something else, to keep the balance."

"A stolen moment of joy," he expounded, seeming to find her fear perfectly reasonable. "Yes, I see what you mean. But Ursa, that doesn't mean we can give up. We are a Fire Prince and Princess, and we have to believe that perhaps, as my brother might say, destiny is on our side after all."

Now it was the noblewoman's turn to let the matter go, rather than continue debating her beloved's assurances. In the companionable, heartsick silence, she twisted around to look up at him.

"Princ—that is, Ozai, may I ask you something?"

"Of course," he confirmed in surprise. Even so, the firebender appeared less certain of himself than usual, more so than she would expect from just their capture and his multiple lost battles. In revealing gradually more of himself to Ursa, he had to learn how to accept to the new vulnerability that comes with gentleness, and she knew it took self-control to let the austere, glittering mask be torn away.

Thinking over their venture above deck, the noblewoman queried, "Why did you want the pirates to keep supplying Captain Bo Kun and the others?" Another question—a very important one about something that had been said or done—was nagging at the edge of her memory, but for the present it eluded her.

At mention of their abductors, Ozai curled his lip.

"On the way up, I overheard them discussing how best to insure the pirates' cooperation. If the pirates asked for an initial payment, they wanted to offer you as insurance. Next to that, the risk of furthering our captors' plan was nothing."

After the first shock, this revelation only added one more reason for the dulled horror that Ursa had to work to suppress, so she moved on.

"Later, though, you wanted to turn them against each other, didn't you?'

"Yes. By then I'd realized that the pirate captain might be useful as a potential ally, if I could persuade him that helping us was worth his time, or more so than helping them," the prince explained. "If nothing else, having everyone fight amongst themselves would give us more of a chance to escape, although I hadn't thought through just how we were going to manage our getaway. Maybe I haven't grown out of being a hothead," he wryly surmised.

"How are we going to escape?" the princess wondered tiredly, not really caring about the answer.

"I'm working on it," he assured her distractedly. "The pirates might help, when they come back. But remember, Ursa—whatever happens...don't give up hope. As my brother always says: allow yourself to slip down the road to despair, and you surrender to your lowest instincts." As though looking on a memory (or some facet of his own untamed, fiery soul), Ozai's gaze turned inward as he spoke.

Despite the grey sky within as without, the noblewoman could hold onto light if her golden-eyed candleflame wished it. Here in the dusk, in her eyes, the prince blazed like the Evening Star, commanding and strengthening the gravitational pull of his moth-winged moon.

"I won't lose hope," she promised in a voice now hushed in devotion, even in the midst of a dark, foreign wood.

"Be brave, turtleduck," he enjoined with a pale echo of the familiar half-smile--but all at once, Ursa noticed the dark halfmoons that cast a shadow beneath his suncolored eyes.

Troubled, she bit her lip.

"My prince...how long has it been since you last slept?"

"Don't worry about me, Ursa," he directed quietly. "I feel better keeping watch, in case the thugs try something."

"But you have to sleep some time, Ozai. You can't stay awake forever." All at once, she remembered the mystery that had eluded her memory earlier: for all their kidnappers knew, the firebender and the noblewoman were Crown Prince Iroh, and Crown Princess...Ming. Despite her puzzlement at this subterfuge, Ursa would find out the reason later—right now, her betrothed needed rest more than questioning.

"I can try to stay awake forever," he contradicted simply, courage and an iron will merging with plain obstinacy.

"I'll watch, then." When he started to protest, she persisted with, "I'll wake you if anything happens. I promise." After dozing all day, Ursa didn't feel achingly weary, which the prince looked to be. At any rate, she could certainly put off sleep to let her guardian firebender, who had watched over her all day, restore his strength.

As he gazed down at her, seeming to waver, his betrothed saw the exhaustion seep into every cranny of his suddenly haggard face. Surrendering, Ozai laid his head on the princess's shoulder, and this time it was she who folded her chained arms around him. Under the cold, shadowy trees far from home, Ursa concentrated on the slow, deep breathing of the prince in her slender arms.

_I'll protect you._

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* * *

-

She started awake to a deep, silken voice urgently whispering her name.

"Ursa, we have to get up—they're moving out." Upon groggily realizing she had fallen asleep after all, the noblewoman's feeling of uselessness returned to burn at her mind. Could the prince never trust his betrothed to take care of anything for him, or must he shoulder all the responsibility and watchfulness?

After another bowl of last night's stew, now cold and even more unpleasant, the prisoners marched with their captors on a barely visible path through the undergrowth and fallen leaves. Overhead, the sky still looked grey and leaden, so different from its customary shimmering blue in the Fire Nation. While they slipped and stumbled (a danger more alarming with their hands bound), Ursa tried to apologize.

"Ozai, I'm sorry I fell asleep--"

"Don't sweat it, turtleduck," he pardoned her brusquely. "You were tired, and needed the rest." Although relieved that her betrothed didn't hold her responsible, the princess felt like a child unable to handle anything for herself. More to the point, if she knew the firebender, he was now busy blaming himself for letting her persuade him last night that he couldn't run on willpower alone.

After doggedly trudging a few more miles in pensive silence, they reached a break in trees.

With a sickening smile, Captain Bo Kun turned back to them and gestured magnanimously towards a clearing up ahead.

"Welcome to your new home."

Passing by the captain, the royal couple emerged from the tree trunks to gaze on an old, weatherbeaten watchtower that raised a forbidding pinnacle to the gloomy sky.

-

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-

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait! But I'm not sorry for the cliffhanger, I'm afraid...**

**There were several references to the show. The white lotus tile is the obvious one—did any of you guess that's what Piandao's mother gave them? Anyway, another reference is the part where Ozai started "cackling maniacally" because he'd "rather be the one taunting." That was supposed to be a reference to DOBS. (If you think about it, he didn't really have the top hand in that situation either, as far as we know, so it kind of fits.)**

**I've also been trying to show the similarities between young Ozai and Zuko, as there's more than people think. The "failure" and "blaming himself" bits probably sounded familiar. ;) And of course I (well, Ozai) almost directly quoted Iroh, when he was talking about despair and one's "lowest instincts." **

**I've found that writing adventure/action can be fun—how did you like the high risk traders, by the way? It may be a bit of a stretch to include the younger one (the tan-skinned boy, who grew up to be the one you see first in the Waterbending Scroll), but I was psyched about including them, so I did. I also liked being able to find the bits of humor (and fluff is always nice). It makes for a weird combination in such a serious part of the story, but I guess it's good to lighten things up.**

**Let's see, question of the chapter...okay, why do you think Ozai was having them impersonate Iroh and "Ming"? I'll get back to you on that, as soon as I figure it out myself. (As usual, some of the details elude me until I hunt them down. This chapter had quite a bit of plot-hunting involved.)**

**I'm not sure how soon I'll post again, but hopefully sooner than last time. It's summer, so I'll have more time. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, and please review!**


	12. In a Dungeon and a Tower

**A/N: I apologize for the looong wait! To make up for it (and because I couldn't help it), this chapter is the longest yet... o.O *needs better editing skillz***

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At the grim sight of the watchtower, the captives said nothing. They didn't even share a glance of dismay. Perhaps Ursa was growing more like her prince, for it was of her own volition that she held her head high. Beside Ozai, she passed through the open gates of steel-bound wood, stiffly as a mechanical doll and just as expressionless. Proudly they walked in step, not flinching when the second, inner doorway swallowed them up like a dark mouth, or a tomb.

In the smoky, torchlit entry hall, the princess may have edged just a bit closer to her companion, but she didn't glance to either side at the soot-streaked walls of rough stone. She hardly gave outward notice to their captors, who once again marched like an honor guard around them. Unlike the firebender, Ursa couldn't hope to wholly quench the cold, burning fear deep within. (How could one of the "weaker emotions" feel so untamable?) With luck, however, her porcelain mask and glassy gaze would be mistaken for the courage and vigilance she longed to possess.

Following a short march that seemed like an eternity, they arrived at the circular main room of the watchtower, which was scattered here and there with crates, sacks, and piles of army gear—evidence that someone had restored the tower from abandonment. Upon making this observation, the thought nudged Ursa's mind that something didn't quite line up. Be that as it may, the effort it took to fight down her fluttering panic prevented the noblewoman from puzzling over this thought with more than a flicker of passing unease.

Carved out of the wall to one side, a crumbling stone staircase led from an opening in the floor to another in the ceiling. From above and below, other soldiers joined them, and still more emerged from side rooms to welcome the victorious abductors.

After barking out a few orders to the men, Captain Bo Kun escorted the prisoners to one of the adjacent doors. He opened it to reveal a small storage room with still more crates and barrels stacked against the walls.

Leering unpleasantly, he motioned them in.

"You may wait here until our employer arrives to see to you."

"How nice of your employer to grace us with his presence," returned Ozai coolly, striding into the cramped room as though he owned the place.

Languidly the firebender seated himself on a crate against the back wall, and Ursa followed suit. Manacles and travel dust notwithstanding, they looked for all the world like a Lord and Lady on a lofty dais (_keeping up appearances_). As one, the Fire Prince and Princess directed an imperious stare towards their head jailer, waiting for him to leave them in peace. No bonds could subdue them--

--or so Ursa kept telling herself, as she ignored the unsteady gallop of her trembling heart. When the door closed at last, affording them a flimsy refuge of solitude, the noblewoman allowed herself to let the aloof porcelain mask slip away. Wide-eyed (perhaps even more doll-like now, in her numb desolation), she turned a lost gaze to Ozai, wordlessly begging for some hint of the future.

Closing his eyes, the prince expelled a deep, quiet sigh, whether of downheartedness or to compose himself, she could not tell. Covertly he glanced at her from beneath long lashes.

"We may be watched, so try not to look as though we're talking to each other," he cautioned with barely moving lips.

So Ursa picked at random a stain on the floor, and bent her head to gaze at it with a stiff, mechanical jolt (_a puppet with cut strings_).

Once she had obeyed his warning, the noblewoman couldn't think of anything to stealthily say to him, except for the senseless _"What now?"_ that reverberated through her skull like a wild demon possessing her. In fractured, gruesome images, stories and gossip raced through her mind of the various horrors that prisoners of war had endured--all those unfortunate souls in old tales and military reports, who had become just a name and a number on a casualty list. Not having many close relatives in the war, happy fortune had saved Ursa from experiencing dark side of battle and death. As a loyal Fire Nation citizen, she had even rejoiced with the rest of her people to hear of enemy casualties.

But now--

Now it was harder to remember the idealized teaches about honor and loyalty, and now the old adages like "death is but glory eternal" become meaningless syllables. (The princess had to distract herself, even by contemplating such a grim subject, or she'd panic--) She felt callous for never realizing what people—friends and enemies alike--endured for and because of this war. Of course, the Fire Lords were leading them on a noble quest to bestow their people's greatness on the world, but...firebenders were hardly merciful to their enemies in the heat of war. It was an ugly necessity (she told herself).

And why was it a necessity, Ursa railed inwardly, anger rising as a defense to terror. Why couldn't the world's other lands just surrender and end their own suffering? Didn't the Earth Kingdom villagers wish for peace in their wide, helter-skelter lands, and wouldn't the Water Tribe prefer to build their icy domes without threat of ashen snow?

Hadn't the Air Nomads longed to beg for mercy, as Fire Lord Sozin wiped them out to the last child?

"Ursa."

"Yes," she answered with cold lips.

"Do you trust me?" the prince asked calmly, in an even tone (she wasn't listening closely enough to tell whether uncertainty lingered beneath).

Automatically, the princess drew in a breath to affirm that yes, of course, she trusted him absolutely. Then her reflections on the horrors of war flooded unbidden into her mind. Ozai had taken plenty of his own captives (he had said so only yesterday): dragged them away from home and family--everything they knew and loved--to a dark, uncertain fate, with never a thought for their heartache and despair...

Love for him woke up Ursa's powers of reason. Yes, had done all these things, and yes, they were terrible. He also had a duty to fulfill, as a son of the Fire Lord. He did love battle, but didn't that show his valor, in protecting his own nation and leading them to victory over others? He cared enough about Sozin's glorious Dream, but also about his people, and about Ursa herself (she remembered his impromptu brawl yesterday with the thugs and the pirates), that he would choose to...to be fierce for them.

..._like a mother turtleduck..._

All of this took a split second, and the noblewoman answered with a little less of a quaver in her voice.

"I do...trust you, my prince." She couldn't not give him that. Even though her firebender could be cruel, even if he betrayed her later (she shuddered at the far-fetched notion that Lady Huilang's warning could ever come true), the princess would continue to believe in the good in her betrothed. That affirmation brought an odd kind of peace to her hectic, fearful thoughts.

"I'm glad." Matter-of-fact, but also sincere and strangely even humble (as though deep down he doubted that Ursa would or should trust in him), his answer brought to the noblewoman's mind their second visit to the field of fire lilies.

_Promise me you won't fly away._

Perhaps now she could comprehend that urgent demand a bit better. Between jealousy, ambition and battle fury, was it any wonder that the Lord's second son feared one day to lose himself?

"Listen," instructed the firebender, sounding relieved to move away from admissions of weakness. "Apparently their 'employer' is a Fire Nation noble. I have several guesses as to who might sink to this level, but it's always good to prepare for surprises. Whoever it is must be after a substantial prize to be so rash, as most of the aristocrats _attempt _to keep their scheming to a less treacherous level."

"Then what does this person want from us, do you suppose?" Ursa mused, dread of uncertainty compelling her to seek out the logic behind the unthinkable _(and please, please, let Ozai stop second-guessing himself like this_).

"Before we get to that, remember that it's Iroh they want," he pointed out, dryly remarking, "It's extremely dangerous, both politically and physically, to try abducting the Crown Prince--even more more so than kidnapping me--so their employer is either desperate, foolish, or both."

"What should we do?" persisted the noblewoman, still grasping for a solution, or hoping to propel her betrothed towards finding one.

_He_ always_ has the answers! Why not now?_

"I'm not sure yet," the prince admitted after a slight pause. "I think we'll have to gather more knowledge before we come up a definite plan." With a grimace in his voice, Ozai reflected, "Obviously my bravado hasn't done much good so far, so I'll have to rely on cunning. If I think of something you should do to help, I'll let you know, but I'd rather not involve you if I don't have to."

That stung a little. Had he asked her to trust him only for this? Once again Ursa felt like a child, helpless and unreliable.

"You don't think I'd be useful?"

Sounding tired, he amended, "I'm only trying to protect you, turtleduck. Don't take it as an insult. Please."

Had he ever said "please" before?

"...Very well, then." Not a minute before, the princess had avouched that she trusted him. Even if she didn't completely like his reasoning, she couldn't forsake her word at the first test that came along (and for that matter, it was so hard to deny him anything, now).

"There was in fact a reason I asked you to trust me, just now," the prince revealed mildly, as though reading her thoughts. "I've been wracking my brains to figure out how to best these ruffians, but nothing's come to me except snatches of ideas that would probably fail anyway. So if an opportunity for escape arises, and it calls for me to be cruel..." The coolly thoughtful tone hardened, yet at the same time flowed liquidly over the words. "...I will be cruel. Come what may, I will do whatever it takes to get you out of here, Ursa," he vowed, voice becoming gentler again.

Although his promise reassured the noblewoman, Ozai's choice of words (_get _you_ out of here_) stood out like a foreboding discord in a melody. Surely she could promise to _to get him out as well_ without challenging his desire to protect her at all costs.

_Why does he have to pick_ now_ to explore his altruistic side?_

"I'll do whatever it takes as well," she quietly declared, daring her own anxiety to challenge her resolve. "I won't let them touch you, and we'll both get out of here."

Fond and a little sad, he murmured, "Be careful who you bite back, my turtleduck. This 'cruel world'--isn't that what they call it?--will not respect your bravery."

Although his vague warning troubled Ursa, she puzzled over it in silence.

"The pirates said they were coming again today, to help restock," her prince thought aloud.

"Will you try again to get them on our side?" the noblewoman asked curiously, eager (_desperate_) to find out if the firebender had worked out a new strategy. (Even if a workable escape plan hadn't revealed itself to him, she would have liked to find _anything_ useful, really.)

"I'm going to try, at least. So far, our "high-risk" friends have been the most...friendly of the bunch, and this could be our last chance to get their aid. I need to think how to persuade them, ideally without our captors noticing (though that may be a lost cause)..." Ozai trailed off, sounding frustrated with his own lack of insight.

Wanting to prove herself useful, the princess scoured her mind for another alternative, and when that failed, begged the spirits to grant her a vision of the perfect solution. Although Great Agni, all his underlings, and even her own spirit-savvy grandfather refused her plea, Ursa figured she ought to go ahead and offer what she had.

"Yesterday on the ship, the pirate captain seemed willing to listen to you no matter what the others thought, so maybe if you just ask him outright..."

"I appreciate your observation, but the fact remains that, even assuming that I convinced the captain to help us, he'd have to fight his way out through a whole watchtower's worth of thugs, plus whatever escort our scheming mastermind brings along," explained the prince. "With a ship full of pirates—or 'high risk traders,' as the case may be--I daresay we'd have a good chance of getting through, and possibly we could bribe or intimidate some of the thugs. But even so, military men try to avoid situations like that, and I assume pirates do as well, if not more so."

"Oh," replied Ursa in a small voice, recognizing that she had failed once again.

_Scorning my own weakness and failure... Spirits! I'm turning into Ozai._

With a jolt, the noblewoman recalled what important detail had so irksomely eluded her last night. That memory had come back to her just as the firebender gave in to slumber in her arms, but then waking had driven it to the back of her mind...

"Ozai, may I--"

"We don't have time for formalities, darling. Spit it out."

Strangely comforted by the brisk tone, she obeyed.

"Captain Bo Kun and the others till think we're Prince Iroh and Princess..." Rather absurdly, Ursa had forgotten her own fake name.

"...Ming. Yes, I know," the firebender wryly affirmed. "When their employer shows his face, I'd say he won't be happy that he mistakenly kidnapped the second prince. So we're going to have to figure out how to avoid his wrath while he figures out how to avoid my father's."

Presently unable to smile at the familiar, well-loved irony, the princess recalled anxiously what the pirate captain had revealed to them (assuming the prince hadn't already known it): living hostages were only useful _if they could collect a ransom_.

"Ozai? Will we..."

His voice was gentle, and starkly free of optimism.

"I'm not going to lie to you. I honestly have no idea whether or not we'll get out of this alive, and there's a good chance of _not_ when our abductors find out they've got the wrong prince and princess. They might choose to kill the witnesses rather than hand us over with apologies to my father." Sounding starkly displeased with fate, time, and the world at large, he reflected grimly, "If Iroh had ascended the throne by now, it might work for the noble behind this to use our safe release as a bargaining chip to get back into the Fire Lord's good graces, but...Lord Azulon shows no mercy to his enemies. Like father, like son," he commented with a touch of returning sarcasm.

At mention of the ruthless avenging justice so natural to both the Fire Lord and his second son, Ursa wondered if they would count her own gentle heart as weakness. But then, Prince Iroh valued compassion like hers, and he certainly numbered among the great.

"If I may—I mean, why did you choose to go along with who they thought we were, back on the ship?"

"Because I foresaw the consequences that I've just pointed out," the prince enlightened her, direct but not impatient. "Besides, I thought I understood the pirate captain telling me to go for it, though evidently I was wrong. I didn't have too many other options; I was making it up as I went along, and I still am." Even without looking, she could have sworn he snarled on the last phrase--snarled at his own lack of planning and resources, and for not being, as per usual, the best at his game.

"I may have only stalled the explosion till we get in deeper trouble, because sooner or later they're bound to discover our true identity. Our best hope may still be the pirates—that is, if the captain still wants to preserve my 'excellent mind,'" he added sardonically.

While Ursa recognized the absurdity of relying on pirates as their only hope, the prospect of fighting alongside with a defamed rebel (_another one_) seemed to rekindle the spark of defiant life, so frighteningly ashen and cold, in the envy-stained second prince. No longer quite so browbeaten, he searched restlessly for an answer, for the flaw in himself or in their circumstances that was at fault.

"Something bothers me about the name of that ship--the 'Wakelooming Serpent,' I think it was. The characters for the name had little extra details, or the lines were too thick in places, or... Blazes!--it's on the edge of my memory..."

Try as she might, the princess couldn't recall anything particularly unusual about the ship's name, not having been able to concentrate on much besides her fog of terror and concern for her betrothed. In vain she wished (again) for the firebender's strength and watchfulness, in exchange for her own timid trembling.

"It doesn't matter now, I suppose," he relented in disgust, giving up the search for such a trifling matter's explanation. "I was reminded of it just now because I've been wishing there was a way I could get a message to the pirate captain, without our captors noticing."

"You mean like a secret code?" queried the noblewoman, heart unexpectedly jumping when at last Ozai showed signs of taking charge and getting them on the right track.

"Something like that," he agreed, sounding deep in thought. "That idea might be useful, but I can't think how to implement it. Even if I did somehow slip a message to the pirate, I don't have anything but money to promise him--and assuming Father would even agree to that, we would have to get it to the pirate without putting him in danger of Azulon's famed wrath."

Determined not to lose this small chance of rescue, Ursa clutched at the first friendly face that popped into mind.

"Perhaps you could ask Prince Iroh? I think he'd understand."

Although his voice sounded strained, the younger prince acknowledged the logic of her idea.

"He would, and the Crown Prince is famous for his compassionate nature, so that might help me convince the pirate." In a tone that would normally accompany gritted teeth, he muttered, "After all my talk of maturity and independence, I _don't_ want to come running back to Big Brother...but I can't think of any feasible plan besides yours."

Momentarily Ursa forget dread their fate, because his speech hit her with several conflicting emotions. As always (well, since their reconciliation a few days ago), she fully sympathized with the reluctance of her betrothed to let his brother continually overshadow him, in both wisdom and might. Moreover, Ozai had finally praised her efforts to be useful...but presently she couldn't feel very warmly lit up by his (admittedly hard to win) approval. Instead, a twinge of annoyance bit at her—which she fought down before it could fester into something stronger—that he saw fit to criticize their only escape plan.

Glory could be won back, after all. Lives (_his and mine_) could not.

Outside, they heard shouts and exclamations of "He's here!" and "Make ready!"

His nonchalance pressed with a note of urgency, the firebender shot her a whisper as they both tensed.

"Speaking of secret codes, do you still have the lotus tile?"

"Yes, it's in my sash."

"Good. Now make sure you--" At the sound of a key jangling in the lock, Ursa sensed rather than saw her betrothed let his stiff posture melt in to the relaxed yet regal pose he had first assumed in their current prison. As the noblewoman tried to coax her her own tense muscles to follow his lead, the door swung open.

"Right this way, sir--they're in here." When Captain Bo Kun ushered in the richly jeweled, albeit travel-stained personage, Ursa recognized him, but only after she had adjusted to the vast change in their circumstances from the last time they'd met. At a royal banquet long ago (_another lifetime_), that nobleman (_traitor_) had smiled and scraped obsequiously beneath a prince's scornful condescension. Here and now, with the upper hand, their elusive evil mastermind looked haughtily at the bound son (and daughter-to-be) of his liege.

However, Lord Chao (_so the prince was right about him, after all_) only had an instant to sneer down at them, before he purpled with shock and rage.

Suddenly it became harder to tell who held sway in this game of power, for all trace of the teenager at his wits' end had vanished behind the austere majesty that Ozai could radiate so easily (or perhaps he simply allowed it to come forth from within). He returned Chao's stare with a not-quite-hidden smirk, superior to the indignity of capture and defeat.

"Am I not the prince you were expecting, Lord Chao? You seem quite surprised to see me, although I must confess that I wasn't nearly as startled by your own appearance in this den of traitors..."

"Silence!" the nobleman hissed, and then rounded on Bo Kun. Despite Chao's short stature, his fury made the Earth Kingdom captain turn pale. "Incompetent fools...! Didn't I tell you to procure the _Crown_ Prince?"

Shrinking away as the noble attempted to grab him by the collar, the larger man spluttered, "Your lordship's nephew swore this boy was our target."

"Do you mean to tell me Chan did this?" questioned Chao in disbelief. "That wretched, ungrateful..."

A memory sprang to Ursa's mind of that brief confrontation—well, more like a moment, a shared glance--as they had walked to Piandao's home two days ago. Remembering the shadowy strangers with whom Chan had spoken, and the cruel satisfaction in his smile, the princess felt dismayed (idealist that she was) that a boy so young could betray his own nation.

When she came back to conversation, Chao was spouting curses and admonishments.

"...there will be Koh's lair to pay for this, you pack of chickenlizards! I told you, it's _Iroh_ we want--"

"You mean I'm not good enough to kidnap?" Ozai inquired silkily, in mock indignation.

Eying him like an unexpected (and _highly _irksome) volcano irruption, Chao snapped, "Now listen, you duckpigs! We have to figure out what do to with _this_ hothead."

"Very true," agreed the prince amicably, his eyes glinting like Northern Water Tribe's fortresses of ice. "Considering that my brother is still on the loose, no doubt scouring the globe as we speak, my capture does mess up things a bit."

"Don't try to be so high and mighty now, Your _Highness_," Chao sneered, a nasty gleam of triumph returning to his beady stare. "I'm the one in power here, and you're finally at _my_ mercy. I've had enough of your insolence, from a prince who isn't even heir to the throne."

Coolly seething with vexation at the man's _idiocy_, the firebender allowed his show of venomous pleasantries to evaporate like so much steam.

"I may not be the heir, but as a _prince_, I still outrank you (and everyone else, excepting my father and Iroh). And unlike these lowly thugs, you are a traitor to my nation, and under the wrath of the _Fire Lord--_" He bit off the sentence quickly, doubtless to wrestle down the raw and helpless rage that had begun to seep through the cracks of his fearless tone.

The aristocratic traitor chuckled dismissively.

"I'd like to see the Fire Lord's wrath try to reach me here."

"So, then, I presume your arrogance means you've come up with a back up plan—one that, perhaps, doesn't hinge on having captured the Crown Prince instead of his kid brother?" asked the firebender with exaggerated patience. At a less serious time, Ursa felt sure he would have rolled his eyes with a teenage boy's exasperation at his elders' thickheadedness.

"Oh, I've come up with a plan, and you'd best cooperate, or you may find things very...unpleasant," hao assured the prince ominously.

"Then let's assume for a moment that I won't be unduly difficult," Ozai proposed, not looking threatened in the slightest as he pulled himself back into role of levelheaded strategist. "What do you have in mind?"

"With all your talk of loyalty to one's nation, do you think I'd tell you?" snorted the noble, evidently enjoying the chance to treat the proud royal like a child, unworthy of respect or notice. "You'd probably just run off and tell on us to Daddy as soon as we came within fire-breathing distance of him."

As in the ship, a gale of taunting laughter escaped the prince, briefly causing Ursa to wonder in alarm whether he had really gone mad after all.

"Forgive me, but you would hardly be in a position to accuse me of betrayal, on the occasion that I informed the Fire Lord of your own treachery. But laying aside that little technicality, I might be persuaded to...assist in your scheme, if it intrigues me enough. You're after power and money, correct?'

"Aren't we all?"

"Fair enough," Ozai humored him, managing almost entirely to conceal the frosty glitter in his eyes. "Well, I'll be the first to grant that influence is relatively scarce for the secondborn. So keeping in mind the potential benefits to us both, wouldn't you find your plot's execution much easier if you didn't have to keep me under lock and key every second? I know the palace and the court like the back of my hand, I can get far closer to the Fire Lord and the Crown Prince than anyone else, and I'm sure you have a use for firebending," he persuasively reasoned. Despite his smooth tone, Ursa could hear the strain, and worried that a facade of treason such as this would take its toll on his battered pride.

Not once did it occur to her that his apparent weakening of control might be deliberate.

"Do you think I'm fool enough to fall for that?" the noble demanded indignantly, although he had listened with fascination. "It's not worth the risk of you turning against us with your knowledge and your fire. That is, unless some kind of leverage could be found..." His beady eyes fell on the princess, and she fought the urge to huddle closer to her prince as Chao wet his lips like a snake sniffing out prey.

"This young lady is your betrothed, correct? Lady Ursa, I believe?"

"That's right. What of it?"

Ursa wondered at such an offhand, careless tone from her protective betrothed.

"I do wonder whether she could make herself useful to us—in cooling down your hot temper, for example," the nobleman speculated.

Ozai cast her a disinterested glance.

"Take the girl if you want. She's nothing to me." At first it didn't sink in, because Ursa had never expected to hear those words (again), even though she knew that they would have to deceive their kidnappers in order to get out. Expectations denied, the noblewoman froze in shock, all the while blaming herself for taking the blunt statement (_a lie, just a lie_) so personally.

"Is that so?" Chao inquired sweetly. "You seemed in the throes of a burgeoning romance, at the banquet. Did we have a nasty a lover's quarrel and nip it in the bud?"

The firebender looked at him derisively.

"It's an arranged marriage, by decree of my father. Nothing more."

Ursa struggled to remind herself that the prince's new strategy was merely that, but it was hard enough to keep her lower lip from trembling. In the midst of trauma and fear, her brain refused to _logically reason through_ anything but the death-cold ocean that threatened to drown her (_again_).

Cashing in on his employer's mood, Bo Kun spoke up, apparently to to reestablish his competence as an underling.

"Then why did you get so worked up when Gang took a knife to her throat?"

Ozai regarded him with longsuffering.

"She's an excitable girl, especially with the trauma she had just experienced. I protected her simply because it's my duty, as a prince, to the one who will carry my heirs. Besides, if you'll recall, we were busy impersonating a hopeless romantic—also known as my brother—and 'Princess Ming,' who, by the way, does not exist as far as I know."

The real princess knew he was a good liar—an excellent one, in fact—so why couldn't she stop her throat from constricting so painfully? Right now she needed so badly to lean on the strength and assured composure of her betrothed. Would that be taken from her as well, if only by a bit of playacting to save their lives?

Bo Kun crossed his arms.

"You mean to tell me it was just out of duty that you risked all of us gutting you like a chickenpig?"

"Chao will attest to the importance I place on honor and loyalty, as he so enjoys ridiculing it," the prince informed him lightly. So saying, he raised a conspiratorial eyebrow at the nobleman, as though to transform the jibe into an inside joke. "That aside, I certainly wasn't going to let you mistreat a Fire Nation princess, no matter how much she aggravates me." All at once he switched from nonchalance to agitation, driving his point home. "Why in Agni's name would I want anything to do with a softhearted weakling who will never appreciate true honor and glory? She's descended from Avatar Roku, in case that means anything to you. Her grandfather betrayed mine."

Against all reason, Ursa was starting to let herself believe in the firebender's scorn, It was harder to remind herself of his skill in lying and all his past oaths when he rattled off her own worst faults (worst, because they were least Fire Nation) in the way she'd always been afraid he would.

Softly as poison gas, Ozai's voice caressed her ears.

"Darling, don't tell me you're going to just sit there feeling sorry for yourself."

Reluctantly the noblewoman dragged her eyes to meet his, and found, instead of the contempt she dreaded, a probing, burning question—no, more like a demand. Her mind obeyed, searching through her memory for reason in madness.

"_...I will be cruel."_

She understood the demand (_I've already promised I trust you_) and ignored the knife that cut her terror into sharply shattered pieces. Briefly the princess closed her eyes, hoping the others would interpret it as a rally against the deluge of insults rather than a retreat to gather her strength.

She rose from the ashes of her disconsolation, because her golden phoenix couldn't carry out his new plan alone (whatever it might be).

Her own voice equally hushed and frozen, Ursa blindly followed his merciless lead.

"Why should I give an answer to an arrogant prince who disrespects my lineage?"

"That's my girl, vindictive as her grandfather." Lovingly the pantherwolf sank his claws into her, fierce approval hidden in the smug twist of his mouth. "I see I've finally woken your backbone, then. I was beginning to worry..." She almost missed the note of concern, veiled so well behind the taunt.

Forbidden from clinging to her betrothed, the noblewoman wrapped a prince's easy self-command around her like a red silken robe, so she could attack what she loved most.

"I'll give you all the backbone deserved by a cold-hearted jerk who refuses to let our engagement be remotely pleasant," contemptuously spat the princess, in her best impression of the firebender. Sick of cowering away, Ursa now embraced her outlet to loose the maddening rage at destiny that had supplanted her trembling fear. As she tore into the prince, the noblewoman felt a second surge of resentment, this time towards—towards Ozai's helpless floundering when she needed his skills as a strategist more than ever, towards his lack of faith in her usefulness as a partner in conspiring to escape...and now this! What right did the firebender have to ask Ursa to hurt the one who bore her own heart, and to sacrifice her loneliness on the altar of strength and honor?

That anger towards Ozai was all that frightened her now.

"I love it when you get angry." His smirk widened to a mesmerized grin.

Watching their spat take center stage, in the midst of problems that should have made it seem irrelevant by comparison, Chao seemed to be considering whether the prince was really as bright as he had been led to believe.

"This does present a problem with using the girl for leverage, if you truly care nothing for her."

"I don't," he repeated flippantly. "We only arranged the marriage to keep the Avatar's family in line."

"If that's the case, maybe we should just dispose of your troublesome little bride-to-be," the nobleman suggested silkily, as though thinking to test the the firebender's lust for power, and ambivalence towards his future wife.

Heart still pounding with the adrenaline from forcing herself to insult her betrothed (although she hadn't had to work at it very hard, and that disturbed her), Ursa fixed her attention on the two mighty players in this game of wills, waiting for the next move with a battle-readiness she had only observed before (in firebenders, and in Ozai) but never experienced.

After pausing to dreamily contemplate the notion of a deathpyre's flames consuming his sweetheart, the prince composed his marble features into a slow, reckless smile, with a gleam akin to madness in his eyes.

"I would claim her as my own with fire, but then you'd have nasty ash all over your supplies. She'll be useful to you yet, Chao—I'll make sure of it," the firebender assured him. To his potentially endangered princess, he slid a possessively intimate glance, like he used to when they argued.

"And besides, I'd hate to lose the chance to exact vengeance for Roku's betrayal on my resentful bride."

Still trapped in the skin (_or the golden feathers?_) of this other Ursa, who anticipated conflict with watchful, calculating vehemence (a_nd not fear_), the noblewoman stared curiously at the inhumanly glorious son of Agni before her, idly wondering why she found his threat to burn her alive so...hypnotizing.

"Well then, we may yet think of a use for the girl," allowed the treacherous noble, looking just slightly taken aback.

"Disposing of the little lady, are we? Why, my good lad, don't tell me you've tired of her already?"

All heads turned as the pirate captain planted himself in the doorway, with an entourage behind him consisting of the ever present cabin boy and several others.

Ruefully Ozai confessed, "I'm a very fickle prince, I'm afraid. I really should have taken up your offer to join the crew when I had the chance. _High risk trading_ might have stimulated me just as well as more...direct forms of treason."

"You'd make a fine honest partner in the risk-taking business," laughed the pirate, as if they were old friends. "Although I do wonder what could have changed your mind to go from a prince to a traitor—instead of a trader, that is."

"I got bored," returned the firebender simply. "Eighteen years is a long time to be the second-rate brother."

"Not the Crown Prince, are you? No, I didn't think you looked the type to enjoy a pot of tea with such...passion," remarked the pirate with a savvy nod, ignoring Chao's frown of displeasure that a weathered old seaman had easily avoided the mistake made by the thugs.

"And what of the little lady here?" he probed further, turning quizzically to Ursa. "Is she also of a mind to abandon all the complexities of the nobility, and take what she can? Or will you leave all the treachery and cunning to your prince?" Once again she had the uncanny feeling that the captain was delivering a coded message.

"His Highness may do as he pleases, as I have no wish to interfere in his affairs," she primly responded, borrowing Dai's ability to appear daintily miffed. Reminded of her friend's advice just a few days ago—the bit concerning ways to allure a temperamental firebender--she decided to try re-crafting a persona that could seem cunning, sly and demure all at once.

_The anger towards _him_ is gone, thank goodness._

.

"In fact, as Prince Ozai so kindly reminded us, the Fire Nation has little respect for my family tree. So, if co-operating with you sirs is my best chance of survival, why should I not follow in my grandfather Roku's footsteps, and betray those who have despised us both?" she queried innocently, almost managing to convince herself that she felt as powerful and sublime as a living bridge to the spirit world.

"Chao, meet another scheming noble," interjected the prince offhandedly. "Although I must say, our little Avatar girl is the prettier of the two. Do tell, sweetheart: just what do you intend to offer us?"

"Wasn't his noble lordship wishing just moments ago for a way to control you?" the princess sweetly reminded him, eyes wide. "I know all the secrets about you, secrets you won't tell. I know what you fear, and when you're weak." Immediately she worried that she'd gone too far, uneasily wondering if the glint of anger in the firebender's eyes betrayed a nerve that she had touched. The noblewoman had followed her part without thinking, and she couldn't stop now. _(I _never_ meant to hurt him. I promise.)_

Alight with keen interest, Chao addressed her with new respect.

"Could it be, then, that you are able to control the prince, my lady?" Ursa didn't bother to contemplate the irony of her sudden rise in status from "the girl."

Intercepting her reply (and giving her time to formulate a suitable one), Ozai chuckled dismissively.

"Keep suggesting such ridiculous notions, and I may split a rib. Our union is strictly political in nature. I'd be a fool to deny her beauty, but any _attraction_ between us is purely physical, and purely on her side." In an amused challenge, his eyes locked on those of his princess. "Care to deny it, sweetheart?"

Haughtily Ursa tossed her head, accepting the metaphorical gauntlet.

"Boast all you want, but it won't do you any good. You always come back to me, even when you hate it."

_So who is the moth now, and who the flame?_

Instead of brushing her off with sardonic wit, the prince glared stonily at his betrothed, seeming torn between amazement at her insolence and consternation at the truth of her words (_our invisibly-stringed puppet show_).

Before another shot could be fired, the pirate stepped in to end to the debate.

"While it's quite entertaining to watch these young lovers rip each other to shreds, I do believe we had a deal to discuss, Chao."

"Quite right--I requested you here to settle matters of supplies, and...so forth," the noble discreetly affirmed. "If you'll follow me, there's an old council chamber of sorts, quite close by." At the mention of supplies, Ursa creased her brows, remembering what had puzzled her about the copious piles of...whatever they were. What further supplies could their kidnappers possibly require? Keeping in mind Chao's air of secrecy, could he have an ulterior purpose in involving the pirates? Both Chao and Ozai had already hinted that the abductors' preparations seemed awfully elaborate just to obtain ransom money or political power.

"As long as wages figure into our talk, I'll let you lead the way." The imposing seaman moved out of the doorway, allowing the traitor to strut pompously, albeit nervously, past him.

Rising, the firebender dusted himself off as best he could with chained hands.

"I'm ready to offer a prince's perspective."

"And why, pray tell, should you attend our meeting?" sniffed Chao in polite condescension.

Ozai feigned hurt.

"What, don't you consider me an ally, now? Look, I can and will put up a fuss if you deign not to admit me," the prince informed him crisply. "Just ask your incompetent captain what I did yesterday on the deck. I'm sure I could get at least one good, fiery punch in before all of you have blades at my throat. And I will be aiming directly for those tiny eyes of yours, Chao." This last he pronounced with cruel relish, staring the noble down like an owlcat toying with a beetlelizard.

"I think you'd be wise to hear this lad's ideas," the pirate advised (or threatened) a visibly flustered Chao. "His 'excellent mind' is one to be reckoned with, don't you see."

"Can't I come as well, to see how I can be of use to you?" Ursa coaxed prettily, absolutely refusing to stay behind with the pirates and thugs. (_How dare he leave me alone...!_)

With his authority overridden once already, Chao put his foot down.

"I'll not have a girl discussing affairs of state with men. Afterwards, I shall inform you of everything I deem necessary."

Ursa fought back a shriek of outrage, born half in vexation and half in dread of solitude.

"You'd best stay behind, too, Knives," the pirate directed the now dismayed cabin boy. "Keep an eye on this wily princess." Although the boy made as if to protest, at a stern look from his captain he contented himself with scowling darkly and scrutinizing the long, curving edge of his blade.

The last one out except for Bo Kun's men, Ozai paused to grace his betrothed with a final lingering glance, somehow pitying, fond, and contemptuous all at once.

"They won't hurt you, sweetheart. The big boys are too anxious to see you do vicious, treasonous things."

Clutching at what solace his pronouncement could offer, the noblewoman smoothed out her grungy skirts (along with her frustration), and settled down to wait, trying not to seem on edge for the firebender's return. Thankfully, their makeshift prison had emptied out except for the cabin boy, but Ursa could hear muffled sounds of comings and goings in the main part of the tower.

Looking as dissatisfied with exclusion as she felt, the young pirate leaned against the wall, still playing with his knife and occasionally throwing a restless glance through the partially open door.

Paying him no mind, the princess waited, sitting tall with her head held high (_I have to be strong for him)._

"So you're from the Fire Nation, huh?" the cabin boy--'Knives,' that is—abruptly broke into her thoughts.

Startled at first, she nodded in guarded poise.

"I am."

"Then I guess you're like me," he concluded, matter-of-fact. "People aren't ever very happy to see you."

Paying new attention to Knives, Ursa pondered his comparison between pirates and her people.

"I've never been outside my nation before, so I haven't directly experienced any...anti-Fire-Nation sentiment till now."

"You're gonna have a hard time then," he told her, commenting afterwards, "I heard them say that you two are the prince and princess. Bet that's why they got you, isn't it? For ransom."

"For ransom, or power, maybe," the noblewoman conjectured, uncertainty making her feel a bit forlorn.

"You and that prince guy should join our crew, like Cap'n said," Knives proposed confidently. "That way nobody can mess with you any more, even if you are Fire Nation."

"Join your crew?" the princess echoed him, astonished by the thought, yet somehow drawn to it. Undeniably she longed for freedom and security, as she sat here chained in enemy shackles... Besides, she couldn't help suspecting that her betrothed would get quite a thrill out of the life of a seafaring rogue, able to make his own glory with no-one to scoff at his (second) birth.

"Exactly. You should join, like I did when the Cap'n found me," the lad persisted. "I have to fetch things and there's a lot of work to do on the ship, but I don't go hungry or sleep in gutters any more."

"You had to sleep in gutters?" Coming from a child, any child, his blunt statement troubled Ursa's maternal instinct. "What about your family?"

"Ain't got none," he said frankly. "They were killed by firebenders, and I snitched coin purses from the moneybags until one day I tried to pickpocket Cap'n. He could have turned me in, but instead he gave me food and a place to sleep, and this here knife to practice with." Seeming embarrassed by the fervent speech, the lad shrugged, wrapping up his story. "So you see, Princess, the rest of the traders and me are a team now. We watch each other's backs. I guess that means we're like a family."

Ursa found quite foreign the idea of pirates having a sense of honor and loyalty. Then again, to other lands, the Fire Nation (she had not missed the boy's casual reference to her people) might seem equally barbaric and without honor, until one looked closer.

"I never considered pirates in this light, before," Roku's grand-daughter said thoughtfully.

The boy rolled his eyes.

"Cap'n _told_ you that we're high risk _traders_."

At length, the "big boys" ended their conference, which the princess knew because Knives exclaimed "He's back!" and bolted from his post to rejoin the pirate captain, with Ursa following more cautiously behind.

Peering out through the doorway, she observed that the three players to be reckoned with--the prince, the pirate, and the traitor, with Bo Kun standing at a respectful distance—had already wrapped up their strategical planning, leaving the noblewoman completely in the dark about their schemes.

"Come along, lad, it's time to go," directed the seafarer, and the cabin boy scampered off to relay the order to the rest of the crew, who had finished unloading and bringing in...whatever they had delivered.

"We'll return in two weeks, as arranged," the pirate told Chao, and then added speculatively, "Perhaps His Highness will have reconsidered taking up a trader's life."

"Better a trader than a traitor," conceded Ozai. When Chao appeared to take affront, the prince flashed him the dazzling smile he used to charm the court, and explained calmly, "As I attested during the meeting, I consider your...rather unorthodox course of action to be a service to our nation, now that I understand the thought and planning you've put into it. Bringing in much-needed change isn't treachery at all, of which you are obviously well aware."

Ursa decided that the nobleman would have to possess the brain of a beetlelizard to take the flattery as genuine praise. Then again, the prince could seem very convincing when he so desired.

"You've been a very entertaining crowd, but plenty of other high risk ventures await," the pirate put in by way of farewell. "Mind the space between your ribs, firebender—and you too, wily maid."

As the pirate band straggled out of the watchtower, Ursa watched in confusion as her betrothed and the traitor both paused as if waiting for some signal, Chao in anticipation and Ozai in watchful resignation.

When they heard the distant boom of the outer gates shutting, the nobleman triumphantly crowed an order, looking satisfied as an owlcat with a bowl of cream.

"Men, escort His Highness to the dungeon!"

Grimly the prince inclined his head to his opponent, with a jaded glint of humor.

"I suspected as much. You do realize that I may become less inclined to assist you if I'm kept locked up for indefinite periods of time?"

"I can't possibly trust you yet, can I?" Chao reasoned in an oily tone. "First you'll have to start behaving for a while. Besides, I believe I've discovered other, less high-strung sources of information—that is, regarding you."

Alarmed by the way those beetle eyes turned on her, the princess came out of her horrified shock to let out a very uncharacteristic shriek.

"_Why_ didn't you go with the pirates, Ozai? We could have gotten out of here!"

Unmoved, the firebender cut sharply to the point.

"Do you think they'd have let a woman on board, despite all the captain's fine talk about your wiles? They're after money, Ursa, and we have nothing to offer them. They would have sold us straight back to Chao."

As the noblewoman struggled to separate the real warnings from the acting, the traitor continued as if there had been no interruption.

"My lady: say, for instance, we needed to discover a weakness of our royal friend, or a secret he refused to tell us. Do you suppose your influence would be enough to...correct his ways?"

While speaking, Chao began to pace back and forth, glancing at Ozai as though he expected his veiled threat to intimidate the firebender.

Looking unimpressed, the prince made a strangled noise that Ursa suspected he meant to be a snort of disdain.

"'Discover my weakness'? I'd really love to see her try."

Still stunned by the imminent departure of her betrothed (_he's leaving me behind_ again), the noblewoman fumbled to pick up the pieces of her persona: the coy, alluring noblewoman with the claws of an owlcat.

"I'll find out anything...that you want to know."

Although her voice came out sounding leaden, Chao clapped his hands delightedly.

"Excellent! Now off you go, Prince Ozai."

As the Earth Kingdom soldiers roughly took hold of his arms, the firebender held himself proudly, throwing the traitor a disinterested glance.

"Whatever. I'll be good, so you don't have to overexert my poor, wily girl," he added in mock , he could only protect her with that parting taunt, at least till they could meet again in shared treachery.

It was the hardest thing Ursa had ever done, to watch them drag her prince away and down the stairs, and pretend she wasn't dying inside.

-

* * *

-

"Now then, we must find somewhere to keep this little dear until we've given our feisty royal sufficient time to miss her company," Chao determined.

Jolting out of her misery, the noblewoman realized that she had her own fate to think about.

"How about the attic, as it's furthest from her lover?" suggested Bo Kun menacingly, seeming to have missed the point that she and Ozai would hardly miss each other (according to the parts they played, and contrary to Chao's hopes).

One of the thugs, a grizzled old man who looked to be far past fighting age, rose stiffly to his feet.

"I'll take her there if you like, sir."

With the nobleman's assent, Ursa numbly followed her guide to the staircase, and they climbed up endless spirals of crumbling stone.

All at once she felt something slip out of her sash and clatter to the step below her. The princess looked down to see the white lotus tile—but before she could reclaim it, her guide slipped past her and stooped down with surprising agility to pick up the gamepiece, deftly closing Ursa's fingers around it. His formerly dull eyes keenly searched her own.

His eyes were amber.

"The White Lotus opens wide to those who know her secrets."

Cryptic and profound, he reminded her strangely of Prince Iroh. Upon this realization, Ozai's speculations about a secret society and (_so much more than_) a gamepiece whispered through her thoughts.

Before she could respond, the man's shoulders bent in decrepit age once more, and he turned to continue in his shambling gait, leaving her to mull over his strange transformation as they passed by doorways to other floors.

At the top of the staircase, they arrived at another room a little smaller than the one on the ground floor, bare except for a ladder that led up to a trapdoor in the ceiling. Shakily Ursa followed him up, emerging into a much smaller chamber with a pile of moldy burlap to one side and four narrow slits for windows. These afforded her a view of the rampart wall that encircled the tower, all of dead grey stone beneath a glowering sky. Still further below, the dark, dripping forest stretched as far as she could see, desolate mist swallowing up any reminder of home or sunshine.

"I'll bring you some vittles later, miss. Best get some rest—soon enough the master will be calling on you."

With that, he vanished through the trapdoor, leaving a dazed Ursa behind.

She avoided the temptation to gaze miserably at the surrounding woods, which made her feel so far away. Now that she had no more reason keep up appearances, the energy with which her betrothed had electrified her sizzled into damp loneliness, like fickle lightning. Right now the princess wanted more than anything to be curled up in her own room with a cup of hot tea...and she thought with a pang of the jasmine-and-ginseng-loving Crown Prince.

No, the noblewoman amended with a pang, she wanted more than anything to curl up in the arms of the other prince (her own prince).

Later she would shoulder her sudden, heavy responsibilities, but right now Ursa had to let herself grieve for a while or she'd be useless. She couldn't be useless, not when Ozai had no one else to trust, and no one else who trusted him. Besides, long ago (or was it just a few days?) she had made a promise to a regal ghost in a chamber full of sunlit dancing dust.

_Look after him for me._

She wondered whether his lonely prison cell even had a view of the sky.

Shivering, the noblewoman sank down on the pile of burlap. She wondered what had become of their friends, and if they felt as frantic as she did at their abduction. She missed Ting Yan's social, bubbly cheer, Dai's refinement and inner strength, Piandao's quiet humility, Zhao's good-natured bravado, Prince Iroh's gentle wisdom and delight in the absurd... Were any of them helping the Crown Prince scour the globe (surely he was by now, as Ozai had surmised)? Would he find his brother and sister in time? Ursa prayed that she wouldn't prove as impossible to locate as her grandfather's reincarnation.

She couldn't weep aloud for fear that, even floors below, someone might hear. Besides, she was too exhausted.

All the same, she sat there for a long time, letting tears roll down her cheeks because she couldn't hold them back.

-

* * *

-

Although Ursa lost track of time, the hours must have passed somehow, because eventually the sky darkened still further in the falling dusk. A creaking of wooden hinges announced the arrival of the mysterious old guard, who emerged through the trapdoor while somehow balancing a tray precariously on one hand.

"Best to eat something and keep up your strength. The master's waiting down below, and he'll be taking you to the firebender."

His kindly tone gave Ursa the incentive to eat rather than glumly rejecting the bowl of rice gruel. Realizing she hadn't eaten since that morning, the princess gulped down her scanty meal (if it could be called such), suddenly feeling ravenous. With some water from the tin cup, she dampened the least grimy corner of her sleeve and dabbed her face. It would do no good to let Chao see the evidence of her tears.

Shortly after, she followed her guard down the ladder to find the noble waiting as promised, complete with an entourage of Earth Kingdom soldiers.

"So glad you could join us," Chao welcomed her in mock courtesy. "I am taking you to visit our royal friend, as I'm most curious to see whether you can indeed help me break that proud spirit of his. I do hope your efforts will be fruitful, or I may have to employ far...messier ways to control him."

Although her stomach turned at the implied horrors, outwardly she nodded.

"I will do what I can." (She meant it, too.)

Once again the noblewoman found herself spiraling down the tower's circumference, this time passing by the ground floor to sink below the earth. Finally the staircase ended in a shadowy antechamber (as she supposed it was), with slick, rough-cut walls. Iron-bound oaken doors greeted them on every wall, each blocking a passage that Ursa could only guess at through the metal gratings at the top of each door.

With a jangle of keys, a guard already stationed there opened one of the doors, which groaned as it swung inward. As the princess marched among her captors through the narrow passageway (_alone with my honor guard, this time_), she gratefully noted the presence of smoking torches set at intervals into the walls.

Before long, the passage widened out to a room made vaster than its actual size by the flickering shadows, the further half cut off by a wall of iron bars. In a far corner, the prince sat leaning against the damp wall, idly watching them file in.

If the reunion gladdened him, he gave no sign, and neither did his princess. Nonetheless...

Awkwardly the noblewoman stopped just short of the bars, wishing desperately for a way to reach her betrothed, and never let go. She had a part to play, however, and she hoped her fellow actor would guide her with his own performance.

"I've brought you a visitor," Chao addressed him, snidely cheery. "Won't you give her a proper welcome?"

"I like your idea of hospitality," commented Ozai. "It sure beats having to remember all that court protocol..." Although he sounded more subdued than usual (as always when the sun hid away from him), Ursa's heart rose to hear the familiar note of sarcasm.

"The stage is all yours, my lady," Feet apart and hands clasped behind his back, Chao watched the drama unfold like one of the Players' shows.

In mild irritation, the prince muttered, "At present I don't really feel like being taken in by your feminine wiles, thanks all the same."

His remark gave Ursa an idea.

"Would it really be so bad, judging by all the other times you've been taken in by them?" she reasoned innocently.

His head snapped sharply towards her.

"Excuse me?"

_Here's where I put to use a lifetime's patronage of the Ember Island Players._

"Why, dear, silly Ozai, I'm _only_ referring to all those moonlit walks we took together, when the pressures of the royal court simply became too much for you. I remember how you'd unburden all of your troubles to me: our arranged marriage, the Fire Lord's disapproval of your unique brand of irony, all your screaming fangirls, the scheming nobles who tried to assassinate you..."

"Silence, you impudent wench!" growled the prince in a manner that reminded her oddly of the hero from "Love among the Dragons."

"Those walks...never meant anything to me," he asserted, looking very artfully conflicted.

"O, is all forgot?" cried the noblewoman softly, laying a hand to her pale brow. Then as best she could, Ursa mimicked his amused, "I will break you" smirk, delicately wrapping her fingers around one of the bars. "You know you'll come back to me eventually, my dear. You just can't help yourself."

Appearing genuinely tempted, the firebender leaned forward to stare at her intently. Then he jerked backwards with a show of effort.

"No! I cannot...I must not turn my back on honor."

"Then listen to me for your nation's sake, if not my own," she implored. "If only you behave, things will get better. His lordship Chao will treat us both well, if he knows he can trust us," she reassured him innocently, pleased to note that "his lordship" seemed to eat up both the melodrama and the flattery.

"Fine, Chao, I'll do whatever you want--just get that girl away from me!" hissed the prince, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead.

_He's really an amazing actor._

Of course, she'd known that all along.

Mercifully coming to the rescue, the traitor soothed, "I'm sure that can be arranged, now that we know your true weakness."

At this Ozai threw back his head in a gale of harsh, maniacal laughter, giving an excellent portrayal of having completely lost his mind. Here in the dank, subterranean cell, that laughter disturbed Ursa still more than the two previous times, and she fought the urge to shudder.

Wiping his eyes as he quieted, the firebender meekly replied, "I'll await your orders, then."

Although himself surprised, Chao appeared to consider Ozai's mental imbalance as more of a victory than a danger.

"Come along then, Lady Ursa," the noble directed blandly. "We'll return again to let you work your magic on the prince, and put to shame his insistence that you have no hold on him."

They left, but for as long as the noblewoman (and the traitor) could still see the prisoner, a golden gaze burned into her with restless hunger, and Ursa envied her betrothed the freedom to express the longing (a spark of truth, in the midst of their complex puppet show) that her own role would not permit her to reveal.

Disconsolately the princess wondered whether he felt as lonely and heartsick as she did, and wished passionately that somehow the sun could be allowed to reach its lost child. As much as she hated the dark, Ursa would have gladly traded prisons with him, if only then could he reclaim the sunlight.

As they exited through the heavy oaken door, Chao absently delivered an order to the old guard.

"Kuzon, take her back to the tower."

She hardly gave notice to the name, for just then, her whole attention swerved elsewhere.

When the door clanged shut with a hollow boom, the noblewoman froze at the voice of her prince, lifted in a haggard, despairing cry that could have shattered the earth and blotted out the sun. Although the sunlit world took no notice (as always), Ursa's already bruised heart shattered into irreparable, bleeding shards.

"_Agni, Great Agni, why have you forsaken me?"_

_-

* * *

-_

**A/N: Gah, another cliffhanger! And they seem to get worse and worse... *huggles Ozai* It was extremely difficult to juggle all the behind-the-scenes plotting that goes on in this chapter, and the next chapter will have yet more plot-hunting. -sigh- But I think it will be more exciting, since it will switch things up more with different/more distinct scenes, and Ursa gets to take things more into her own hands. Plus there's Ozai's little dilemma... But I can't give away too much, can I? So for now I'll leave you with this chapter's gratuitous (by which I mean highly necessary, in this case ;) ) "like, whoa!" moments of Kuzon and the White Lotus Society.**

**I loved having Ozai steal Sokka's line about not being "good enough to kidnap." It's funny—I think most of my characterization of young Ozai is present in the current young generation of Avatar, but the traits I give him are spread out between two characters (not counting Zuko and Azula). Sokka's the master of sarcasm and the "idea guy," and Jet is the suave, charming bad boy with no qualms about sacrificing lives for a greater good. (Actually, for a long time I've considered Jet the closest to my version of teenage Ozai, tho Sokka has some things in common with him too, like the afore-mentioned sarcasm.) Poor things—being compared to the leader of the nation they both hate... -is so evil- **

**Aside from that, the main other thing I have to tell my fellow Urzaites is...I got to go to Comic Con this summer, and I cosplayed young Ursa! -happy- I didn't see more than ten other Avatar cosplayers, but one of the first I met was dressed as Ozai. He wonderfully was in character, too—graciously nodded to me with that regally reserved Firelord smile. Later I kept referring to him as my "hubby" lol (tho not to his face, of course). Yeah, I was psyched. I need to find a friend (or a boyfriend, if that ever happens) who'll cosplay the other half of young Urzai with me... Anyway, I'm going to Comic Con again this year, as Ursa, so I'll let you know how that goes. This time I plan to incorporate some phoenix-themed accessories into my outfit, so that people will know that this princess is not bemoaning her marriage to "that evil, heartless tyrant." lol Since freaking people out with your Urzai-shipper-ness is kind of unavoidable, why not enjoy it...? -evil smirk-**

**Oh, and did you know that there was an Urzai week in October, courtesy of a community on Livejournal called "the_fire_war_room" (I think)? Sadly I wasn't aware of this happening at the time, but there are some wonderful fics that came out of that—not any of my own fics, yet, but I figure you can always do a shipping week belatedly, right? ;) Anyway, go check out the community, as it's awesome. I'm not a very active member (yet), but in case you want to friend me, my LJ name is fiery_dusk_rose. **

**I'm really sorry about the long delay. It took me a while to get back into writing fanfiction, even though I never completely forgot about this fic (of course!). I'm back in Urzai mode now, I think—and besides, i'm planning a sequel!--so hopefully I can update a lot sooner.**

**This time I think I'll dispense with the question of the chapter, and let you comment as you see fit. Be kind to me. Please.**


	13. Whom the Stars Crossed

I don't know how long it's been since she came. The torch flickers smokily, and somewhere I hear water faintly drip and splash. It's not that I mind the dust—well, more like damp-ish sand—in which I'm sitting, despite my penchant for cleanliness. I'm not even really put out by the slimy stone walls, or the bleak dimness, or the cold.

It's being cut off from the faintest trace of sunlight that really bugs me.

I could probably go insane if I let myself, so I try not to think about the lack of daylight, or the way my wrists are chafing against the shackles, or the very true possibility that Chao's thugs could be doing unspeakable things to Ursa and I'd have no idea. I know I can't change any of that right now—but still, if I let myself, my thoughts keep skittering back to my girl like a mother henpig. Or...perhaps more fittingly, a mother turtleduck?

The situation is still more aggravating because I'm not used to worrying about people's safety like this. The few people I actually care about—NOT that I would EVER tell them so—are mostly capable of firebending up a storm whenever they're in trouble.

The guards and I have a love-hate relationship. Okay, minus the love. They rail at my princely arrogance, and I scoff at their crudeness and lack of class. Really, it's quite entertaining. Of course, I have a hunch that if I were better behave, they wouldn't "forget" to bring me that meager excuse for food quite so often. But it's just so hard to resist heckling them, and besides, it's one of the reasons I haven't gone stark raving mad (yet). Hey, Chao knows very well how I'm temperamental and ethnocentric, so keeping up my show of mockery shouldn't hurt my chances of earning that weaseldog's trust.

The thugs seem rather undecided about whether I actually need a guard in the cell with me—or maybe they're just more afraid of me during the daytime (I really can't tell time down here). Seriously, I wouldn't blame them. Personally, though, I'm inclined to suspect that Chao's "loyal" thugs merely have a habit of sneaking off and sampling whatever passes for sake in the Earth Kingdom, whenever they can get away with it.

When they're not around for me to tease, I spend the time considering all the details of every scenario that I can dream up, so I know I'll be basically ready for whatever. I've always found it oddly relaxing to exercise my powers of strategizing, especially now that it takes my mind off Ursa (and all of my brother's irksomely useless proverbs about courage and despair).

* * *

Staring at the sky through her single window, Ursa wondered irritably when the old guard return (though in a way, she was thankful for her near constant hunger, because it took her mind off the golden-eyed prisoner in the dungeon far below). Since they had led her back to the tower yesterday evening, the noblewoman had weathered both monsoon drought from her shaken emotions. In many ways, this reminded her of the prince's visit to her family's house long ago, as spurts of restless energy alternated with hours of numb deadness. During the latter, the princess would, as now, curl up listlessly on the pile of burlap sacks, not caring that dust would get in her already begrimed hair and clothing.

Her thoughts thoughts moved in circles like buzzardwasps, coming back to _him _like they always did_. _Really, it seemed to make no difference whether Ozai had just spurned her or pledged his undying love—or gotten himself dragged off to the dungeon by a treacherous nobleman. She never could get him out of her mind. Of course, his hold on her thoughts wouldn't have caused Ursa so much distress except that she kept hearing his final ravaged cry over and over in her mind. Her efforts to strategize like her cunning prince hadn't accomplished anything, either. She was too distracted, to depressed. At present she had worn herself out, too tired to feverishly search for a way out, but also too drained to truly despair in the heavy, desolate way. For the most part, she simply felt disinterested.

A few minutes (or hours) later, Ursa finally heard the old guard scuffling as he [fiddled with the ladder. The noblewoman felt a prick of interest in her blank, flat mind. In less Ozai-obsessive moods, her questions all kept circling back to this mysterious old man and his inexplicable transformation on the staircase. At her meager breakfast (were they feeding her firebender, she wondered?), the princess hadn't succeeded in coaxing much out of the guard—Kuzon, that was his name. All he had given her was a lot of vague hemming and hawing about his aching joints, and how inconsiderate Chao was to make an old man climb all these stairs.

Nonetheless, Kuzon had parted from her with a brief but strangely intent gaze before turning dull and doddering again, so Ursa entertained a mild hope of finding out some answers.

The trapdoor opened, and Kuzon emerged, with another tray. Normally Ursa would have gotten tired of rice gruel, but now she gulped it down hungrily, not caring that she didn't quite fit the picture of a noble lady.

However, when she finished, the princess took back up some semblance of courtesy, partly in hopes of learning whatever this strange old fellow could tell her.

With a regal but gracious tone she addressed the guard, who had silently watched as she ate.

"Thank you."

Kuzon inclined his white head, and replied with a rueful good humor very much unlike his decrepit persona.

"You're welcome, though it hardly deserves your thanks. I'll try to slip you some more palatable food when I can, though what we have isn't much better."

Ursa's hope rose along with her curiosity, but she feared to speak too quickly lest Kuzon vanish into the dimwitted role he played so well.

"I appreciate your efforts." She chose her next words carefully. "I must at admit, I am rather curious as to...why you should wish to help me."

"I knew you'd be curious," the guard avouched in an understanding tone. "I'm sorry that I had to keep you in the dark, but unfortunately, I couldn't be sure we weren't being watched. I had to make sure all of them were distracted at a drinking party before I could come up here to speak openly."

"I can see the danger of being watched, but I still don't understand," the noblewoman persisted. "Why should a man from the Earth Kingdom care anything for a Fire Nation princess?"

He looked her in the eye.

"I'm not Earth Kingdom. I'm Fire Nation, just as you are. Or I was, long ago."

Astonished, Ursa pressed, "But then why and how are you undercover in Chao's gang? Did you know he was planning to kidnap us—or rather, Prince Iroh?"

"I was informed that something of that nature was brewing. I've been living in this country for many years, so when Chao started recruiting 'Earth Kingdom mercenaries' I joined up, just so I'd be in place if we fell into a dilemma such as this one. As far as Chao knows, I'm just an addled old man with a sword sharper than his mind," Kuzon elaborated with a lopsided grin. Ursa couldn't help but like him, all the more because he shared her ties to the Fire Nation. It was an overwhelming relief to encounter someone who seemed wise and trustworthy. At least, she hoped he was.

Now she could ask openly about the white lotus tile.

"When the lotus tile fell from my sash, you said something strange..."

"'The white lotus opens wide to those who know her secrets,'" Kuzon repeated. "Whoever gave you that tile connected you to an ancient web of information and aid. I cannot reveal much beyond that, but be assured that any who recognize that tile's true meaning may be counted as friends and allies."

"Then Ozai was right that it's a secret society," breathed Ursa slowly.

"I'm not surprised he would have known or guessed something, with his brother already a legend among us."

"If Prince Iroh is a part of it too, then couldn't you somehow relay our whereabouts to him...?" reasoned Ursa with a jolt of hope.

Kuzon seemed to consider, and his voice became weighty.

"We've done the best we can, Princess. The truth is that you and His Highness are ensnared by another web besides ours, this one of a considerably more ominous nature. "

"What do you mean?" asked the noblewoman, frustrated at her helplessness.

Evenly the guard explained, "You've been caught in the middle of a struggle for more than just the Fire Nation throne, and for your own safety, we have to get you out with as few people knowing as possible."

Added to her confusion was a twinge of fear.

"You mean more people are involved in this than just Chao?"

"For your own sake, I can't tell you very much. But I'm sorry to say that it isn't just lowborn soldiers that have taken an interest in this little scheme of his."

Ursa stayed silent, reeling from the vast and vague implications of his veiled warnings.

Then she looked back up at him, resolute.

"When and how will you be able to help the prince and myself return home?"

"I'm afraid I can only say: when the time is right. Till then, have to keep you alive."

Armed with a plan (at long last!) and more a few answers to the mysteries, Ursa felt the fearless princess inside her waking back up, ready to tame this dark, mad adventure at her prince's side.

"Tell me what I should do."

Below they heard footsteps, and Kuzon wheezed, "Have you finished, then, young miss? Can't have you wasting away now."

Despite the gravelly tone, the guard met her eyes and folded his hands into the honorific gesture of their nation.

"Kuzon, are you up there?" called Chao.

"Yes, yes, coming right down, sire. Oh, let me take care of that spiderfly for you, Princess." Stiffly he got up and walked over to the pile of burlap. Sharply Kuzon wrapped the wall.

"Can't have little critters creeping about, now can we?"

"Cease your doddering, old fool! I need you to convey a message to Lady Ursa."

"Lady Ursa" decided to take matters into her own hands.

"I'm here, your lordship," she called down sweetly. "What did you wish to tell me?"

"Ah, there you are. Regrettably I'm busy tonight, so I won't be escorting you to visit His Royal Highness."

The noblewoman hid her disappointment, and encouraged by the fascinating alliance she had forged with Kuzon, she continued in her role of an airheaded noblewoman.

"Very well then, your lordship. I'm so glad I won't have to put up with that firebender's nonsense tonight. Thought I'd be happy to manipulate him for you when you wish it, of course," she added winsomely, realizing that under no circumstances did she want to minimize her chances of seeing Ozai.

With grandfatherly doting, Kuzon turned back to her.

"There, now, no-one can go in or out of this here room. I'll lock the trapdoor and I have keys right here." He made a point of jingling them proudly at his belt as he lifted the trap door to descend one more. "So don't you make a peep. Wouldn't want to bother the master."

"How sweet to see you've bonded," Chao commented dryly from below.

"Just treating the little miss kindly, like yer lordship ordered," Kuzon returned mildly. "Now young miss, I've no doubt the prince'll miss a sweet thing like you, so make sure you get yourself ready to sweet talk him over to our side." Kuzon's eyes did not match his voice. He met her with the direct gaze that she had learned to associate with half hidden messages.

"Indeed, Lady Ursa, I do hope you'll find yourself able to do just that—before other problems arise," Chao finished cryptically, sounding preoccupied.

When they left her, Ursa set to pondering Kuzon's parting words. In her place, what would the prince have done? Well, he'd already know what they were thinking and be planning something of his own to counter it. However, the fact remained that Ursa, unlike her betrothed, could not read minds.

So maybe she could read secret messages instead? Highly suspicious of the incident with the imaginary bug, Ursa moved over to the wall, trying to imitate what the guard had done. She prodded and probed without the faintest idea what she was looking for, but in the back of her mind a plan was forming—or rather, a translation of Kuzon's messages.

_..nothing can get in or out...I'm sure the prince will miss you..._

Lost in contemplation, the noblewoman started when her finger hit some sort of secret lever in a nearly invisible crack in the wall. A little door barely too feet square slid open to reveal a dim and drafty tunnel. A cold breeze blew out at her.

She stared at it, stunned.

_Am I supposed to follow it...?_

_No. _

She jerked back and leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. She was afraid of the dark. It was too dangerous. She might have misunderstood Kuzon.

_I can't do this._

* * *

After a few minutes spent fighting back terror, Ursa roused enough courage to look at the tunnel again. What if it could lead her to Ozai? If only she had a light...

Abruptly she noticed a silver glint among the burlap sacks. It was a tinderbox, next to a candle stub. Had Kuzon left it there for her, when he'd rapped on the tunnel door?

With an overwhelming rush of gratitude, the noblewoman picked up the tinderbox attempted to light the candle. It took her several tries, and she wished that she had a firebender—one in particular, that is—to flick a spark from his fingertips. Of course, if that particular firebender were here, Ursa would have no need to brave the tunnel alone.

Edging closer on her knees, Ursa peered in by the light of the finally kindled wick. The tunnel seemed to open out enough to for someone to walk comfortably, if one didn't mind the occasionally brushing against the slick, rough hewn walls.

She took one more look at the circular tower room. It would be disastrous for Chao to come back and discover the secret door...but Kuzon had promised that he'd keep the keys safe.

Taking a deep breath, the princess crept into the tunnel. She thought only of a pair of fierce golden eyes as she held the candle aloft, heart in her mouth.

The tunnel sloped gently downward, spiraling many times around the circumference of the tower. Shielding her precious candle with one hand, Ursa kept a careful watch on her footing. After what seemed like an endless trek downward, she came to a few chinks of light in the inner wall. Strange-perhaps they were meant to be used as spyholes from this secret tunnel? She heard voices from the room beyond, and tiptoed past.

She passed a few more spyholes on the way down, before at last the tunnel opened out into a small cavern with passages running away in all directions. Refusing to give up after she'd come so far, the noblewoman passed by each dark entryway, looking for any sign to guide her. _There!_ Etched roughly into the rock wall was a white lotus symbol, close enough to the floor that only someone looking hard would find it.

Feeling as though an unseen guardian watched over her, Ursa continued down the passage that the symbol had marked. After a short while she came to a dead end—or so it appeared. The princess ran her fingers over the wall for invisible crevices or levers, and to her relief the wall slid open.

She stared out into the shadows that only her candle lit. Although she could tell this space was much vaster than the passage behind her, all else was dark and indistinct.

"Who's there?" softly called a voice she knew well.

She stepped forward, suddenly shy, as a rustling and clanking signaled the movements of the cell's occupant.

With a dark flicker of motion, a pair of shackled arms slipped over her head and nestled snugly about her waist. He pulled Ursa close, and warm, full lips drank in in her own. The candle clattered to the ground as her hands tangled in his grime-covered robes, and suddenly it didn't matter that the pitch blackness had returned.

When at last his mouth released her, the prince trailed kisses down her jawline to just below her ear.

"Turtleduck," he sighed in a low haunted tone.

"Ozai," she murmured in return, hardpressed to let anything but that name slip from her. For the moment she felt secure again, like a child that reaches its parents' bedchamber after a nightmare.

"How?" he breathed, incredulous. "How have you come to me here?" Shackles notwithstanding, the firebender raised his hands to cup Ursa's head. She knew he was staring down at her by the ragged strands of hair that brushed her face.

The noblewoman would have liked to stay in his arms in silent communion forever, but she dragged herself to remember what she had learned.

"Kuzon helped me, because he knows about the white lotus tile—"

She stopped because Ozai, unable to lay a finger across her lips to silence his betrothed, had bestowed a light kiss instead.

"Ssh, love, you're not making any sense. Who is Kuzon, and how does our white lotus tile play into this fascinating madness?"

Amidst a swarm of internal butterflies, the princess realized she would have to try harder to keep the story events in order. Of course, her prince was not helping matters, as his second kiss had made it yet more difficult to think straight.

As best she could, Ursa told of the old guard's cryptic warnings and promises. As though to take refuge from the vaguely glowering threat in her tale, she buried her face in the firebender's chest, with Ozai breathing calmly as he listened.

"You've been brave, my princess," he commended half playfully, and with a strange sadness. Even so, the noblewoman's heart rose at his reassurance. For all her resolve to be courageous and independent, just like her grandfather and her betrothed, Ursa remained so much in the power of her prince's approval.

She expected him to comment on the knowledge she had shared, but Ozai seemed content to discuss lighter matters for now.

"Well turtleduck, how are you holding up, after I pounded you with insults and insinuations all day yesterday?"

For the moment she felt perfectly at rest here in his arms, whatever heartache might wait outside.

"At first it did bother me...but now I'm all right. I can even insult you back," she told him proudly.

"You certainly rocked their tabi off," he purred. "You did very well to learn all this. It makes the other pieces fit a bit better."

"Do you mean...what you learned at the meeting with Chao and the pirate?"

"Now remember, I strictly did not tell you this," warned the firebender, "but essentially, Chao entertains grand ambitions of forming a coup to assassinate my brother, with your favorite evil hothead as the instrument of endangerment to Iroh's health. That's why he—Chao—has to make absolutely certain that he can trust or at least control me."

"Where do the pirates come in?" Ursa wondered.

"Apparently they've agreed to provide Chao with some sort of secret weapon—he wouldn't say in front of me. Which brings me to my next point: don't take what I've said as the unerring truth. For all Chao's stupidity, I have my doubts that he'd reveal that much of the real plan to me. It's too soon."

"So many secrets..." the noblewoman said uncertainly, feeling lost.

Wryly he pointed out, "You'll soon be living among the schemes and intrigues of the Fire Palace."

"True..." Although the power games of the aristocracy made her nervous, Ursa had gained a slightly romanticized view of the royal court, from watching her betrothed manipulate its secrets so masterfully. Besides, the Palace would be her new home, with her prince.

"At least...at least we won't be locked up in the dark." She gave a shaky smile.

Moving his hands back down to her waist, Ozai pulled her closer, and lowered his head to speak by her ear.

"Are you so sure about that, princess?"

He nibbled at her ear, and a giggle escaped Ursa amidst the literal and metaphorical darkness that hemmed them in.

With that thought, she realized they were indeed surrounded by total darkness, with empty spaces above and around, and the firebender had not loosened his hold on her.

Cheeks growing warm, she quickly changed the subject.

"Ozai, what should we do now—about being kidnapped, I mean?"

Her logical prince sounded resigned, as always, to the inevitable.

"Once again we have to wait and stay alert. Until my brother or that secret society of Kuzon's deem the time right to act, just try to wheedle as much information out of Kuzon as you can, and I'll do the same with Chao."

"All right," she sighed, a bit disconsolate. "I suppose the society is trying to get us out before the pirates come back with their secret weapon?"

"Possibly," he acceded. "I rather suspect, however, that the pirates might be constrained to help us."

"I thought you didn't think so before," Ursa reminded him in surprise. "Did you find out something new?"

"Just a hunch, darling," he said cryptically. "Nothing to fret over, for now." The princess could tell he was hiding something, but didn't get a chance to speak up because Ozai did a very good job of getting her mind off the subject. After pressing a kiss to her temple, his lips brushed along her cheekbone and anointed each eye. As the prince blessed her forehead with a kiss, the noblewoman lifted her hands to his face, her fingertips prickled by the light stubble beginning to cover his sculpted jaw.

"You have to go soon." He sounded oddly forlorn.

"No." Her voice trembled petulantly. Ursa didn't want to leave him and return to her lonely tower.

"Yes." Voice surer now, her betrothed seemed more himself, gentle but firm. "One goodnight kiss, and then I'll send you with a spark of mine to carry back."

Her spine curved backwards just like a heroine in the Players' romantic sagas, and her slender arms encircled his neck.

_If you close your eyes, you can pretend this is a moonlit garden at the Fire Palace, and we just slipped away for a moment, from our first royal banquet as fiancees..._

One kiss turned into two and then three as the imaginary paper lanterns glimmered red and gold, and the nightblooming flowers filled the warm evening air with the summery fragrance of their homeland.

Too soon his kisses forsook her, and with them, the illusion. Ozai lifted his arms to release her, and lit a small flame in his hands. As Ursa blinked in the light, he scanned the floor for her dropped candle. Stooping, he deftly picked it up and then sparked the wick to life.

His voice had grown somber and distant, so that he strangely resembled Prince Iroh when imparting profound or sorrowful wisdom.

"Now you have my flame to carry back to the daylight—think of me, won't you, until you have to let it die?" He turned wistful on the last words.

Staring at the candle, she thought of the firebender who was so like his element: fervent and soulless in zeal, with beauty all the more entrancing in the gloom. She wondered if he had spoken of the candleflame as an emblem for his heart, which fire protected from all but her.

Ursa looked up at him, heartsick yet resolved.

"I will think of you as I carry it back. Even when it's gone out, I'll remember."

* * *

To ward off the dread of her return, the princess reflected on everything she and Ozai had learned. Somehow the prince always enabled her to reason calmly, detaching her from earthly troubles just like an ancient guru at a shrine. Imagining her hot-tempered firebender in that unlikely role, Ursa fought the inane urge to giggle. Perhaps the remoteness of his fire-hidden heart allowed him to be so impersonal, or at least kept him from knowing how to show what he felt. Then again, that hadn't stopped Ozai from expressing his feelings very clearly just now, though not always with words... Once again she blushed.

She had been loathe to leave him without light, but the prince had smiled at her smugly in the light of the fire dancing in his palm.

"I meant besides firebending," the noblewoman specified.

"The guards will replace the torch soon enough. Or they might not, but it doesn't really bother me, having fire constantly at my disposal and all." Despite the light tone, Ursa could see the strain in his eyes, locked away from the sun for so long.

This time when passing by the spyholes in the wall, one of the voices caught the noblewoman's attention. It was Chao's, and she decided to take the prince's advice and gain whatever information she could. Silently as a mousevole, she crept to the slit in the rough stone and peered into the room beyond.

Pacing back and forth in a small room with a writing desk, Chao was muttering to himself, loud enough for her to make out pieces of it.

"...they'll want to know what the pirates are up to...figure out how to keep the firebender out of their clutches...have to take care of the girl, first of all..."

She listened anxiously to the fragments of plans, hoping to unwind the web of mysteries. Then the nobleman came to a halt, eyes widening as he seemed to stare right at her. Perhaps it was only a new idea that had occurred to him, but Ursa didn't wait find out.

When she jerked away, however, the hem of her robe snagged on a protruding rock. She yanked herself free, hoping the sound of tearing cloth wouldn't give her away, and rushed back up to her tower. She imagined hearing footsteps behind her, and hoped they were only the echo of her own.

When Ursa reemerged into the tower, she pulled the secret door shut, melting against the burlap with her heart still racing. Through the tattered clouds, the westering sun had emerged at last, streaming bloodred through the window like a memory of the Fire Nation. As if in mockery, an errant zephyr wandered in and snuffed out the flame that Ozai had kindled for her.

* * *

When Ursa woke stiffly the next morning, her first thought was how much she wanted a nice hot bath. Unfortunately that wasn't possible, so instead she waited for Kuzon to arrive with breakfast, hopefully in an informative mood.

Becoming more awake, she realized the sun was streaming in to fall in warm patches on the floor, although a few clouds still dotted the sky. She sat leaning against the wall, letting the daylight ease her fears away for the moment.

Presently Kuzon came with breakfast. As Ursa ate, he glanced towards the secret door.

"Were you able to see him?" he asked quietly.

"Yes. I told him what you've said to me, and he told me what Chao said that he plans to do, at the meeting." Briefly she filled him in.

"Thank you for informing me. Yes, I've gathered that much, but His Highness's skills in observation and strategics will certainly aid us. I'm afraid you won't be able to visit him every night—it's too dangerous—but I'll try to let you know whenever you can," he promised. "And in the meantime, I can take messages to and fro."

"I'm much indebted to you kindness," Ursa lowered her head, realizing how much they needed a sympathetic ally. "Could you really take messages?" She hadn't thought of that way to alleviate their separation.

Kuzon's eye held the slightest twinkle.

"But of course. Those who know the white lotus are masters at codes and secrecy. And my duty is to help those in need, no matter what nation."

Unsure what to say, the noblewoman looked at her hands.

Kuzon picked up the tray.

"Be forewarned that Chao will probably have you visit the prince today. I have to go, but is there a message that you wish me to deliver to your betrothed?"

She recalled spying on their captor last night.

"Yes, there's something he should know."

* * *

Chao did take her down to work her charms on Ozai once again, and the Fire Nation sweethearts played their roles very zealously. After all the whispering and glancing over their shoulders, it was quite fun getting a chance to indulge in melodrama, and it seemed to work. Ursa came to view herself as the gleeful accomplice of her prince, inspired by the latter's "evil little brother" persona.

For the next few days, she visited him openly at least once a day, but the princess didn't get a chance to go by the secret passages again. Kuzon felt it would be unwise, as Chao had seemed more suspicious of late. At least, he hadn't allowed the old guard as many chances to slip away and talk to either of the prisoners as his true self.

Although they didn't find out anything of a more useful nature, Kuzon did take messages back and forth, when he could. With rueful sentiment, Ursa drew on her love for ancient ballads to cast a misty fairytale air about the stark reality. She recast herself and her betrothed as a noble maiden and a young lord, exchanging poems and love tokens amidst the blossoms of a Fire Nation springtime.

* * *

I'm glad the torch is back. Not that I mind the dark, but this way I can watch the light play on Ursa's latest missive to me through the old guard. One single strand of her dark hair, gleaming silkily in my hand. In beauty it far surpasses the perfectly arranged hairstyles of all those bejeweled vixens who come to court, vying for my notice.

One strand—I hold it gently in fingers, afraid to break it, but I might lose it if I don't hold it tight enough. So fragile and ephemeral, just like her.

Look at me, waxing poetic.

...I guess being shut away from your element's source for days on end will do that to you.

With my peripheral vision, I become aware of them filing in, and I can tell they mean business. But I won't grace them with my notice, not when a marvel far more important demands my eyes. Of course, my composure will only make them madder, but I've long since ceased caring.

"Hey, Your Loftiness!" the thugs are jeering through the bars. "Look at the royal foxdog, sitting so smugly in his cage."

Unimpressed, I finally turn to acknowledge the mockery they've made of my various titles.

"So you've finally come back, have you? I was beginning to think you'd all forgotten me..."

"We've come to teach you a lesson, firebender." One of them starts unlocking the door.

"Have you?" I raise an eyebrow. Even if I did fear them, I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of showing it. No one compromises the dignity of a prince without his permission. Except maybe the Fire Lord.

They come in, and I'm pulled roughly to my feet.

"Get up."

Stonily I stare at the speaker. I know you. You're Gang, who threatened Ursa's life. Let's hope my hatred doesn't find its way to the ashes of your corpse.

They lead me from the cell, back down the hall towards the antechamber with the stairs. Upon reaching it, they take another tunnel, escorting me through a veritable maze. Finally we reach another cell, bigger than mine and with no dividing wall of bars.

My arms are pulled out in front of me, and inexplicably they unlock my handcuffs, which clatter to the floor. I fight the urge to rub my chafed wrists, keeping watchful and ready to spring like a caged pantherwolf. Let's say I have little faith in the better natures of these derelict men.

I'm right, of course (trust me, it's nothing to brag about). Taking hold of my robe, they rip it into pieces, so I'm standing in my dark red trousers and boots. I see now that a shackle on a long chain hangs from the walls to either side, and they compel me to stretch out a hand for each shackle. The chains are long enough that I can still bend my elbows much of the way, but other than that, I'm pretty immobile.

I feel myself burning—in rage, not in shame. I'm a Fire Prince, after all.

One of them had left on the way to this cell, and presently he returns, carrying a wicked lash with a cluster of leather thongs at one end. This should be interesting.

They shove me forward, and the cold stone floor bites into my knees. I see now why the chains are so long. Although my arms might feel as though they've been yanked from their sockets, I don't think they have, quite.

"You can burn down our homes and our livelihoods," Gang spits, taking the lash, "but let's see how you like the way we do things in this Kingdom."

The strangest thought comes to me that right now, I bear all the hatred of the Earth Kingdom, for over half a century of war.

Fools. If you wouldn't fight so hard, it wouldn't hurt so much as we share our greatness with you.

_Ah._ Again and again the lash bites into my back, as they taunt and cheer in a ring around me. I can feel the warm blood start to trickle out of the long gashes. I tune them out, making good use of the mental fortress I've had so much practice building.

Not that I mind the whip, but I'd rather have Ursa wielding it... My lips twist into dark smile as my sense of irony saves me yet again.

"What are you smirking about, you firebending scumbag?"

The lash hits me harder, and I grit my teeth. My hair creates a curtain around my lowered head, sparing me from the sight of these vulturetoads. When I can no longer concentrate on my loathing of them, I turn to my mantra of a prince's unassailable honor. I know they want me to cave in and scream in pain, but a grunt here, a hiss there is all that escapes.

As it goes on and on, I find myself forsaking both wrath and honor and only repeating Ursa's name to myself, over and over with every burning strike. At the moment, I can't bring myself to care whether or not it's a sign of weakness.

_Ursa._

* * *

I don't remember when they finally left, laughing and clapping each other on back as they called parting jibes out to me. I was too busy encouraging the haze that threatened to drown me in heavy grey. Maybe I shouldn't be going unconscious—I don't know how much blood I've lost—but if it numbs the pain, I don't care.

Fitfully I doze for a while, torn in limbo between the need to stay wary and the desire to escape the present (and maybe this world). Then footsteps intrude on my hazy consciousness.

I can't even drag myself to look up at newcomer. If the thugs are back, they're back. Maybe they'll be nice and kill me this time.

Then I hear a sharp exclamation. Is it surprise? Anger? Mockery? I can't tell. When someone squats down in front of me, I look blearily at him, trying to force my muddled brain to make sense of his features.

"Your Highness? Can you hear me?"

I know that voice... Oh, it's the old guard, right? Kuzon of the Fire Nation.

Although he sounds concerned enough, he doesn't spout useless statements of pity or righteous anger, which I'd scorn to accept even if I could make sense of conversation.

He merely sets to work freeing my arms, explaining calmly, "I can't let them know I've been here, so you'll have to go back in these when I'm gone. Still, I can give you a moment of respite." Despite my shame at needing help at all, I'll admit it's nice to know that one of my subjects still thinks it worthwhile to come to the aid of his prince.

Oomph. The shackles have expelled my wrists, and I'm now collapsed in a heap on the cold floor. It's unbelievably nice to be horizontal... Kuzon uncrumples my limbs so I'm flat on my stomach. Lying here, I feel a bit less dizzy.

Then he's talking (probably to keep me awake and nonpanicky, though I'm really to tired to panic), and I listen with half an ear.

"Well now, the first thing is to clean your wounds. I have a clean cloth in this knapsack, so I'll dampen it with my waterskin here..."

I wonder where my fine although filthy robes had gone, speaking of cloth? The thugs probably carted them off, for spoils or bragging rights. They'd have been worth a lot, prior to the ripping incident (only the best for a prince). Despite their being dyed a nasty blood red, very much unsuited to Earth Kingdom taste...

Ah! I tense in pain as Kuzon begins to dab at the dried blood and sweat on my back.

"Forgive me, lord prince. This will not be pleasant, but I will try to make it as painless as I can."

I really don't know which I preferred: being flogged, or having the dust scraped off of the inflamed, torn skin of my back.

He pauses to dampen the cloth again. As I catch my breath in the interlude, I hear the melodic slosh of the waterskin.

I'm so thirsty. How long as it been since I last drank? Or ate, for that matter?—though I hardly have an appetite.

It takes my lips a while to remember how to form the words.

"Water," I manage to croak out.

After pulling me slowly to a sitting position, he presses the mouthpiece to my lips. I can barely take a mouthful before he pulls it away again.

"I'm afraid you'll have to take just a little at first, lord prince. Soon you can drink some more."

After that, he resumes the torturous cleaning of my wounds. At last it's done, and he comes around to kneel where I can see him.

"I have to leave you for now, but I'll come back as soon as I can."

Kuzon pours another few sips of water down my aching throat. In silence he returns my arms to their chains. For my part I feel no inclination to break the pensive mood, drifting dimly in my thoughts.

"Prince Ozai." Now he's leaving through—can you guess?—yet another secret passage, but he looks back at me. "I vow that I have not forgotten the loyalty a Fire Nation citizen owes to you."

* * *

Frantically Ursa hurried after Kuzon, imagining a thousand gruesome scenes to accompany his words. Despite the risk of discovery, the old guard had come to fetch her almost right away, with the warning that they would have to be ready to leave through the secret passages at a moment's notice.

When he opened the secret door, she rushed past him and into the stone chamber. Then she stopped short, hand over her mouth to hold back a scream. There was her prince, kneeling battered and chained on the floor, seemingly without the strength strength even to lift his head to see that she had come.

The princess rushed to him, falling to her knees and reaching out to cradle his heavy head, to hold him close—

With a hiss of pain, Ozai jerked away.

"Don't touch me. My back," he clarified. His rasping tone seemed to hide a plea, and that frightened the noblewoman more than anything. It was so uncharacteristic of him to beg.

"Ozai," she said softly, as though to soothe a wild creature. She brought her hands up to his ear and jawbone, where they would not aggravate his wounds. In his hollow eyes Ursa sought for a gleam of recognition, a hint that he was glad to see her.

The firebender didn't speak, but after breathing slowly a moment, he sank forward carefully into her arms, sighing as he laid his head on her shoulder. Surely his neck must be sore, she thought, from supporting his hanging head all this time. With delicate fingers she began to massage the back of his neck, hoping the relief of these muscles wouldn't pull on the damaged skin below.

"Mmm..." He sounded perfectly at rest, like a child drifting off to a lullaby.

Ursa felt her heart break, but she couldn't brood on the soldiers' cruelty right now. She had her beloved to attend to.

As though sorry to interrupt them, Kuzon murmured, "Princess, he needs more water. Will you give him this, a little at a time, while I clean his wounds again?"

Accepting the waterskin, Ursa felt her betrothed tense as the guard used a wet cloth to dab gently at the firebender's back.

Maybe it would help the prince to distract him. Lifting his head off of her shoulder, the noblewoman kissed his dusty brow.

"Ozai, my love, listen to me. You must try to to drink this." Holding the waterskin to his mouth, she used the same cheery tone as when she had coaxed her younger cousins to eat their vegetables.

"Open wide."

Thirstily he gulped the water down, and the noblewoman pulled it away, afraid that she'd given him too much.

"I'm sorry," she said anxiously, but the firebender remained expressionless.

Every few minutes, she let him drink a little more, until the waterskin was empty. By this time, Kuzon had finished tending to the prince's wounds, and went to keep watch in the openly used doorway.

With Ozai's head once more on her shoulder, Ursa sat in silence, brushing her fingers through his hair.

"Turtleduck?" he mumbled into her robes.

"I'm here."

He paused between each phrase, as if dragging the words up with great effort.

"Do you remember...when I told you that...my mother used to sing to me, and—"

"...and you remembered her voice, but not the lullaby?"

"Just her voice, yes. But I know...which song it was...because Iroh...sings it too."

"Which song...was it?"

"I'll tell you, when we...if we get out of here." His voice was getting fainter, as though he were drifting off to sleep. "It was about...a soldier boy, and leaves falling...like shells..."

Quietly Ursa blinked, some nameless emotion making her throat go tight.

"When we get out, one of you can teach it to me, and then I'll sing to you...instead of Lady Ilah."

"I'd like that," he murmured sleepily.

Too late the princess heard footsteps behind her. At first she thought it was Kuzon, but Ozai lifted himself up to snarl weakly at someone behind her.

"Get this insolent vixen away from me."

With dread in the pit of her stomach, the noblewoman turned around to see Chao smiling pleasantly down at her. The secret door was open behind him.

"Good evening, Lady Ursa."

Frozen in shock, the princess wondered how her betrothed had the strength to cover for her in his wounded state.

"You see? She's snuck down here to get under my skin like the conniving wench she is."

"And apparently by way of the secret passages. Just look what I found in the tunnel outside my office." Chao held up a scrap of cloth, which Ursa recognized as the torn piece of her sleeve. "Oh yes, I know all about the tunnels. It's one of the reasons I chose this tower in the first place."

"Secret passages? How surprisingly clever of the Earth Kingdom," put in the prince, mildly impressed. All things considered, his level of composure was quite a feat—although to him, cool reason probably seemed more of a welcome escape than a burden.

"Yes, isn't it?" agreed Chao amicably. "Now, I wonder who could have told our wily little lady of their existence?"

His eye fell on Kuzon, who gave a loud fake snore as he sagged against the archway wall. Clenching his hands indignantly, the nobleman strutted over and gave the old guard a sound kick. Starting awake, Kuzon gingerly rubbed his shin as Chao addressed him loudly.

"Well, old fool? Could it be that Lady Ursa has charmed you into telling her about the secret passages—assuming you knew about them?"

Kuzon squinted at him in perplexity.

"Secret passages, sir? I don't know about no secret passages. I just came down here to guard the prince, because I'd heard they'd moved him and all."

"You lout, can't you see that he's weakened and chained? Why would he need a guard?'

Regarding Ozai with great interest, Kuzon ran a hand along his chin.

"Well now, I reckon you're right. Still, you can't never be too careful with a Fire Prince. Why, I remember when one of 'em made a whole town bust out in flames just by glaring at it."

"Enough of your foolish prattle," Chao fumed as a snort escaped the prince. "Of course you'd know nothing—what was that, Your Highness?"

"Don't worry, Chao," drawled the firebender. "I'd never do such a thing to any settlement of yours_,_ especially after your men kindly took it into their heads to flog me..."

"Ah, yes, I must assure you that my incompetent and small-minded soldiers acted entirely without my permission," the nobleman virtuously professed. "But moving on from this regrettable, unsanctioned occurrence, I would like very much to know if you'd be feeling a bit more in favor of our plan. You see, if I knew I could trust you, I wouldn't have to leave you in this dungeon at the mercies of Earth Kingdom mercenaries..."

When Ozai chuckled, the sound caught in his throat as he tensed in pain. Then, his muscles loosening, the prince appeared haggard but relaxed once more.

"If this doesn't convince me, I really don't know what will."

"If you please," Ursa began haughtily, as she had heard noblewoman say when they knew had a right to be heard. "I had the very same thought, sir, and so I thought I couldn't waste this opportunity to convince him to finally come over to our side. It was working quite well, too, when your lordship graced us with your presence." If it would help her betrothed get out of this horrible dungeon, she had to speak up, and her coquettish persona helped to mask her fear.

"Not a bad thought, my lady." Chao's tone had turned sickly sweet, making the princess doubt that she had really escaped his anger. "Nonetheless, pray do enlighten us as to how you knew about the secret tunnels, if it's no trouble?"

She burst out with the first thought that occurred to her.

"The pirate captain told me." With Chao and Ozai staring at her, Ursa began pulling details out of thin air.

"That is, he told his cabin boy, and the boy told me while we were waiting together for you to finish your meeting to plan everything."

"Yer lordship, if I may add a word," Kuzon said cautiously, "I always did say you have to be careful about getting mixed up with them pirate types—"

"Silence! Now, that's a very good story, but why would the captain inform a Fire Nation noblewoman?"

"Because he wants the prince to join his crew, and he was hoping I could convince him. I dare say His Highness would make an excellent pirate," she sniffed, with a disparaging glance at her betrothed.

"Of course, I wasn't going to do as the pirate wanted. I was only using his advice to help you."

"By sneaking down here behind my back?" Chao asked coolly.

"Her influence always increases when we're alone," interceded a resigned Ozai. "Isn't that right, princess?"

"You see, he's finally admitted it. I didn't want to mention it before, because I was afraid it would seem disrespectful," she explained, eyes wide. "Oh dear, I haven't caused you too much trouble, have I?"

The nobleman shook his head condescendingly.

"What exactly would you call spying on my office?"

Wringing her hands, Ursa confessed, "This is rather embarrassing, but...if you must know, I've always been too curious for my own good. I simply cannot stand being kept in the dark, even if I am only a girl," she pouted prettily.

"I'll vouch for that," Ozai put in dryly. "When they say curiosity killed the owlcat, they're talking about Ursa."

"Well well, we shall see about that." Chao eyed her with an odd gleam in his eye, before clapping his hands decisively. "Now then, I think you've had quite enough time to influence His Highness for tonight. It's high time for you to be getting your beauty sleep, my lady."

Even more loathe to leave Ozai than she was afraid of their captor, Ursa nonetheless got up, pouting a bit as she brushed off her skirts.

"Do behave yourself, my prince. I hope you can show his lordship that you've learned your lessen by now."

The firebender opened his mouth to reply, but instead his mouth tightened in a grimace. Still he watched her, golden eyes burning like fire in a skull's eye sockets.

"Return Lady Ursa to her confinement, and then go back to your duties, Kuzon. When I require your services, I shall inform you."

"Yessir, Lord Chao sir. I'm ready to look after these young 'uns whenever needed, yer lordship." The princess appreciated the coded message; it comforted her anxious mind as they left through the archway in which the old guard had kept his watch in vain.

* * *

As Ursa walks away, pain robs me of a comeback-or in her case, a veiled endearment. So I just let her go. When they're all gone, I bow my head. Not in defeat or jaded despair.

I'm just tired.

* * *

"Princess Ursa, you must wake."

She blinked open to see Kuzon kneeling beside her, and through the window behind him, the gibbous moon shining high in the black Earth Kingdom sky.

"Listen," he urged upon seeing she had woken. "Chao has decided that you've shown too much guile, too much influence over the prince. He fears that he cannot control you."

"What does he mean to do?" asked Ursa, frightened.

Looking straight in her eyes, the guard hesitated.

"My lady...he means to take your life."

The princess gasped. She could feel her blood draining so that she became pale as the face of Tui.

"Do not lose hope, my princess. I have a plan, but it will not be easy...not for any of us. I must ask you to trust me."

Unsettled by his grave request, Ursa looked away to collect her thoughts. It was the second time someone had asked for her complete trust since coming here, and somehow giving it took more nerve this time.

With despairing adoration, she thought of her prince, chained and bleeding in the dark.

"Tell me what to do."

* * *

Drifting in a doze, I hear footsteps approach, and look up to see Chao's smiling visage. He looks veritably overjoyed. Like any doting lover, I'm feeling more than a little concern for that curious owlcat of mine.

"Your Highness, I have news, news which I think you will have as much cause to appreciate as myself."

I wait, wishing I could reason away the twinge of dread in my stomach. Usually I'm not the type to get all spiritual with my premonitions, but then again, today has been particularly weird.

He paces back and forth, waddling like a—no, I can't say "turtleduck," as that's Ursa's nickname. At any rate, I wish he'd hurry up. My injuries are making it hard to pay attention.

Finally he pauses to look at me.

"Let me be brief. Lady Ursa will trouble us no more."

Immediately my mind jumps into full gear, interpreting, analyzing, thinking ahead to decipher his words and the stratagems behind them.

Great Agni, what can he be talking about? I can't remember feeling this much afraid since...since...

...since the first time I watched Father fight a real agni kai with someone.

Wait a minute. Seeing as Chao seems convinced that I'll find his news pleasing, I have to pretend I don't feel like vomiting. So this is fear? Ugh.

I compose myself, keeping my expression as close to neutral interest as I can.

Hands clasped behind back, the treacherous lord assumes a noble gravity.

"It seems that your betrothed had an illness, which she concealed from us."

Ursa? Sick? This must be another ploy to deceive Chao—otherwise, why wouldn't she tell me?

"Just an hour or so ago, the guard Kuzon informed me that she has, most regrettably, passed on from this world."

Lightning strikes the tower, and an earthquake rumbles my dungeon. That would explain why I'm suddenly gasping and reeling, collapsed as far forward as my chains will let me.

This. Cannot. Be.

Yet somehow Chao is still looking pleasantly down at me, unshaken, unmoved.

He's talking again, but I can barely process the words.

"I can see that you're a bit overwhelmed to hear this so suddenly. The lady did enjoy quite a hold over you, after all."

A hold on me? Don't mock me, traitor. Blazes, I didn't know developing a heart would hurt this much...!

Ozai. Get a hold of yourself. He said Kuzon told him, remember? This must be a trick, developed by the old guard to get my turtleduckling out of here...

"You'll think me later," he assures me in a fatherly tone. "This way you can take the power that should rightfully be yours, uninhibited by...feminine wiles."

Right. The plan. I have to think...and shut out the phoenix's voice, keening its agony. (I won't be rising from this deathpyre.)

Instead, the wrong words tumble out of my mouth.

"Can I see her?" My voice feels like it I haven't used it in centuries.

If this is simply part of Kuzon's plan, or if Chao is telling some kind of sick lie to keep me in line, he'll deny me, because there won't be a body to see.

Please say no. I've never begged the spirits so hard as now.

"But of course," he answers softly, as though he knows he can afford to be generous. "You have every right to look on the face that will no longer plague you. I'll tell Kuzon to bring her down here, before she's taken care of."

So...it wasn't...a trick...

Hey—"taken care of"? Like rubbish?

I want to see her, but after that...

She'll be out of my reach forever.

He's talking again. Do I have to listen?

"I thought it best to deal with the matter quickly and quietly, you see, and Kuzon has volunteered to...escort her out."

Was there nothing else Kuzon, with all his mystique and promises of a secret society, could have done to help her? I'll bet Chao killed her himself...

I wish anger would hurry up and replace this...this grief... (Is grief what this is? It feels more like have your soul ripped out through a burning hole in your chest.)

Didn't you want me broken?

Chao leaves, and soon after they return: the moment I long for and dread. Downcast, Kuzon carries my love in his arms, the way I'll never get to hold her.

He lays a small body, wrapped in burlap, before me. Kneeling, he uncovers her face...

_Ah! _Another stab in that useless organ they call a heart.

Never more beautiful, and perfectly serene, as if she's found her true home, a princess in the spirit world. Is she taking tea with Roku? She would. Chasing the ghosts of owlcats, or feeding dead turtleducks, laughing at the solemnity of my ancestors, charming them into mirth...

I close my eyes, yearning for death to strike me too. Too soon Chao gives the order, and Kuzon gently lifts her again.

In a way, I'm glad I no longer have to see her moonpale face, so unlike my Ursa.

On the other hand, watching her go...I come to finally understand what they call "heartbreak." (Such a bland word, to describe this burning void.)

"I'll let you have the night to think it over," says Chao by way of parting.

I'm alone now, and so much more in the dark.

I bow my head, and know no more.

* * *

I will say no more of the agony I've endured since nightfall. One, there are no words to express it, and two, my grief is my own.

But I have come to an important decision.

I have always regarded Ursa as my freedom in this gilded cage of the second son. She would save me from the jealousy that might have led me to instigate a scheme like Chao's.

Well, she's gone.

I will never go back to living in the shadow, alone with my honor.

And Chao's plan is pretty good, or would be if I weren't planning to subvert him.

Sure, people like Kuzon will probably try to stop this coup from happening.

But I have nothing to lose. And men are most dangerous at such a time.

Hey, I've always wondered what it would be like to be Fire Lord.

And I'm going to find out.

* * *

**A/N: Whew. Now that was hard to write, even if we know somewhat how things turn out later. I'm sorry to make you wait so long, my faithful readers, and that it was such a traumatic chapter you had to wait for! I have reason to hope that the next chapter will be up a lot sooner, partly because I'm getting back in Urzai mode, finally. Yay!**

**Poor Ozai. I had to put him through the wringer in this one. :( But I loved finally getting to tell you people which song it was Ilah had sung to him... So sweet! ^^**

**You know, a while back I decided to make a playlist for this story, inspired by the amazing TrueThinker. I'm planning to redo my main page soon, so I'll put it up there. But anyway, the song for this chapter is "This Is How I Disappear" by My Chemical Romance—the only song I know by them, but I love it. The next chapter's song is Leave Out All the Rest by Linkin Park.**

**Speaking of my awesome comrade, do any of you like modern AU fics or young Urzai (I'm hoping you'll say yes to at least one of those, considering you're reading this fic XD )? If so, why not check out the collab TrueThinker and I are doing, which combines the two? It's called Almost Famous, and you'll find it on her page. While you're there, check out her other fics too. **

**And yes, the title of this chapter as well as a few plot points are a reference to one of Shakespeare's most famous plays... You'll see why in the next chapter. Since the phrase "star-crossed" means "thwarted by outside forces" (according to Wikipedia), it kind of reminds me of my little fannon idea that destiny was always sort of set against various members of the royal family, you see.**

**I know I've mentioned this before, but if I remember correctly, the "gilded cage" metaphor was inspired by Despising Pity, a postwar Urzai fic by WhisperToMeSoftly. You'll find it in my favorites.**

**Speaking of Urzai fanfics, I have discovered another awesome postwar fic called "Beating Hearts Grow but Never Die" by Taurus3rockergirl. Seriously. Go read it. (It's in my favorites, too.)**

**And please...review! :D**


	14. The Darker Side of Honor

Before very long at all, Chao returns with his entourage to finally promote me from prisoner to puppet prince. When the shackles expel my wrists, I stay kneeling a few moments, hands resting limply on my battered knees. I may not look my most magnificent, but it doesn't really matter whether anyone tells a future Fire Lord he doesn't look regal enough.

What's this?

Kneeling here, I've noticed a little round object on the floor, so close to my knee that it's almost hidden by the folds of cloth. Subtly I extend my fingers to pluck it off the damp stone. Obviously I can't examine it now or the others will see, but if my hunch is correct, this little circular doodad should not lie around for the wrong eyes to find.

Whoa! Steady there. Deep breath.

After the difficulty it took to get up just now, I'm not surprised I had to steady myself before letting the thugs escort me out of this dungeon. If I don't get some sleep soon, I'm pretty sure I'm going to collapse. Other than that, walking isn't as hard as I might have thought, because my inner numbness protects me from the outward pain, and my new resolve burns cold and unmoved against the inward pain.

Chao seems to be afraid of me. At least, that would explain the nervous glances he keeps throwing in my direction. Is it the dead somberness in my eyes? Or just the reputation of Prince Ozai the proud and ruthless? I suppose it would give me an advantage to use his fear against him, but somehow I can't bring myself to care very much as we leave this cell, in which...in which so many things happened.

I know I should be constructing a a mental map as we wind through the passages, but I have enough of a challenge just walking steadily ahead.

Still deep underground, the tunnels change, and we're passing through well lit halls with dry, sandy floors. Sparsely furnished rooms open up to either side. Quite an intricate place, this tower.

They show me to a small room with a mattress on the floor.

"I can see Your Highness is weary," Chao observes. "Please, take some rest here before including yourself in our preparations."

Stumbling cross the room, I take an impromptu fall, losing my balance as I sink down onto the pallet. I grit my teeth as the lacerated skin on my back screams in protest of the sudden movement. Face down, I pass out, the round object still clutched tightly in my fingers.

* * *

When Ursa's eyes fluttered open, it took her a moment to orient herself. In dreamlike puzzlement, she gazed up at the moon glowing whitely through the black branches, as tree roots pressed into her back.

The last thing she remembered was the tower. Kuzon had been there, telling of great danger to Ozai and herself... And then he had given her a little black vial which left her with a slightly bitter aftertaste as she sank into darkness.

Turning her head, the noblewoman saw the old guard leaning against the back of of a nearby tree.

He returned her glance.

"You've woken, Princess."

"Yes..." Slowly she sat up, and a blanket of some sort slid away from her upper body. It was Kuzon's cloak, she realized a moment later.

"Where...are we?"

"Almost a full night's journey to the south of the tower. I stopped here when the sun rose this morning, because we mustn't be seen."

"I.. I don't remember... What happened?" asked Ursa faintly, struggling to make sense of her fractured memories.

Kuzon nodded understandingly.

"Chao had decided you were too dangerous alive, because of your power control the prince as few others can. Over the years I've gathered some knowledge of herbs and plants, and just in case, I had brought with me a potion made from the moonshade flower, which will make the drinker sleep in the likeness of death for twenty-four hours. That's what I gave you, so that we could escape with everyone believing you had died."

"Everyone..." In her muddled head, a warning bell chimed. "Except...except for Ozai. He knows I'm not dead—doesn't he?"

Her companion's face became troubled.

"Princess...I promised you I would get a message to him if I possibly could. I was unable."

Eyes widening in horror, Ursa whispered, "You mean he...thinks he's lost me?"

"I did leave him the white lotus tile, so he may have guessed that all was not as it seemed," Kuzon said quietly. "But while we were waiting for Chao to allow our departure, certain of his men took it on themselves search your person for things of value. Or they would have, had I not stood guard against them."

Hardly hearing his explanation, Ursa felt her insides roil, as her powers of sympathy wrought havoc on her imagination.

"If he thinks I'm dead... I have to go back, Kuzon!"

"Do not lose hope, Princes Ursa," he enjoined. "The prince possess great powers of reasoning, and I believe we can trust them to prevent your betrothed from acting recklessly because of his emotions."

The noblewoman shook her head, her lashes shedding salt droplets.

"You don't understand. It's his very sense of logic that will be his downfall. He loves me, Kuzon! He's never loved anyone, not like this." She tried to think how to explain, to translate her own love-tinged musings into statements that made sense. "He hides his heart behind a wall of fire, and now that I've gotten close enough for someone to hurt him through me...he'll go mad!"

"If I hadn't gotten you out of there, you would be dead," the guard pointed out, gentle but firm. "And then the prince would have no one to save his fire-sealed heart. For now you must be strong for him, until the time comes when the two of you can reunite." Expression softening, he explained, "The prince and I both need you here, on this journey with me. I might fail without your help."

Not understanding anything except the solitude and pain of her Ozai, the princess forlornly surmised, "So...I have to leave in order to save the one I love."

"Yes. You must protect yourself in order to protect him."

* * *

Jarred out of fitful slumber, I open one eye as the door creaks open to reveal a tall thin man with a shock of greying hair.

"Who are you?" I'd rather not have any of you thugs sneaking up on me.

"I am Shen. Chao has ordered me to put my meager healing skills to work on your wounds."

How nice of him.

"I didn't see you at the flogging." Believe me, I would have remembered if I had.

He's carrying a wooden basin full of water, and after setting it down, he dampens a cloth slung over the edge.

"I'm in this strictly for the money. My village, like most, has become poor through warfare with your nation."

"How galling, being made to tend a firebender prince," I murmur, mostly just to take my mind off the pain of having my back touched.

"I can't say I'm overjoyed. Oh, by the way, someone will bring you dinner in a few minutes."

Once again, very thoughtful of my host.

Watching the torchlight gleam on surface of the water, my eyes narrow.

* * *

After a meager supper of dried meat and fruit from Kuzon's knapsack, the two of them gathered up and made ready for their nocturnal journey. In childhood, Ursa would have pretended herself a waterbender, guided by the moon spirit. Now she simply wondered whether her grandfather had ever learned to feel truly at home, amidst the mysterious, bewitching night. The sunless sky reminded her also of the second prince, with his soul like white-hot starfire, and like the impenetrable darkness behind the moon.

"Where are we going?" she asked Kuzon, led back to earth by thoughts of her firebender.

"To the nearest representative of my Order, a few days to the south of here. The Crown Prince needs to know all that we have learned."

"What exactly have we learned?" the noblewoman pressed, and then regretted the accusatory note in her voice. Although she knew Kuzon had given his best endeavors under the circumstances, she couldn't help feeling furious at the prospect of leaving Ozai to his grief and possibly madness. A good part of her remained unconvinced that it was wise to take this detour. Then again, her love-kindled anger couldn't silence her more cautious side, which whispered that a member of the White Lotus probably far surpassed her in wisdom—and anyway, what did a sheltered young girl like Ursa really know?

When the old guard glanced at her, the princess thought she detected a trace of sympathy, which she promptly ignored. If she accepted pity, she would start to feel like crying, and it was so much easier to deal with protective anger than to choke down fear and pain.

"You remember I said this web is more complex than you know."

"Yes."

"It seems that Chao enlisted more than just lowly mercenaries to help with his plan. You've heard of the Dai Li?"

"From the Earth Kingdom capital?"

"The same. He was not wise to involve them, because as usual, they'd like to make a few political changes of their own. This whole time, it seems, Chao has been attempting to dissuade them from becoming involved after all."

Ursa thought back to her spying incident.

"I think I overheard him figuring out what to do. What are the Dai Li planning?"

"As far as we can tell, they either want to take you as hostage, or use you like a puppet in their city, as a representative from the Fire Nation. Either plan would increase their power, or the appearance of it."

"For what purpose would they want me as a representative?" queried Ursa, furrowing her brow.

"Probably because of your grandfather," Kuzon professed. "The Dai Li keep a very tight reign on those inside the walls of Ba Sing Se. The authority of any connection to an Avatar would likely help them stay in charge, especially if the people thought that your presence gave Ba Sing Se some amount of power over the Fire Nation."

"But now that I seem to have died, they'll have to give up on their plan," the noblewoman mused aloud.

"That's right. You're safe, as long as we keep your life hidden."

"If that's the case...the Dai Li will have given up by now, won't they?"

"Unfortunately, they haven't," Kuzon sighed. "In the last few days, a new detail of their plans have come to light. Building on Chao's planned coup, the Dai Li have threatened to brainwash the prince (as they do many troublemakers in their city), with the purpose of weakening and gaining control in our nation. That is why we must contact Prince Iroh through the White Lotus."

Ursa's breath caught, and then she nodded resolutely. As much as she hated forsaking her betrothed, even just for a few days, she would face storm and earthquake before letting anyone tame the fire behind those golden eyes.

* * *

For the past several days, I haven't done much besides lying on my pallet, either sleeping or waiting for my back to stop feeling like it encountered a hoard of stampeding komodo rhinos. Periodically Shan comes back to dress my wounds. On the whole we've developed an uneasy truce, even a guarded respect for each other, but that doesn't mean I can afford to let my guard down.

For the moment, however, the few thugs I have seen so far seem afraid of me. Maybe Chao's spoken to them about the whole flogging incident.

Of course, I keep the white lotus tile with me at all times. Currently it's hiding under the mattress. To those I've decided are enemies, this innocent game piece becomes a bearer of secret codes which could make life difficult for a power-hungry second prince. Moreover, if Chao knows about the secret society (though I doubt he's that smart), the tile's presence might cause him once again to question my loyalty.

For such a little thing, it's awfully burdensome as it weighs on my mind, reminding me of the one whose leavetaking forced me to desert a prince's honor.

Then again, my honor has only been reborn, like a phoenix, in the form of a vision for my nation. The Crown Prince may command unsurpassed glory, but given a chance, I could shine just as brilliantly. Really, Father. I could.

Of course I'll probably have to think about disposing of His Lordship too, although not before I learn the ropes. As much as I would enjoy ruling as a young Fire Lord, I'll only create trouble for myself if I grab for power too soon.

Interrupting my treacherous thoughts, Shan enters the room, with an Earth Kingdom garment of some sort in his hand.

"You should put this on, and come with me. His lordship Chao wants to see you, now that you're well enough."

Of course the robe is green, to add insult to injury. It doesn't suit my coloring at all.

Stiffly I sit up, finding that my back is still sore, but not agony every time I move. Whatever his feelings towards my nation, Shan has taken good care of me, and that at least I shall remember.

Pulling the robe on over my head, I find myself in the awkward situation of trying to figure out just how the fastenings go. There seem to be two of them at my right shoulder... How odd.

After forcing my clumsy fingers to close the fastenings, I slowly get up to follow Shan. He leads me down the hallways to another room, where Chao sits behind a desk.

"I'm glad to see Your Highness is feeling better." He motions me to an empty chair, which I take. Rather than leaning back with languidity, I sit up a trifle rigidly, so that my still-tender back won't have to bear my weight. After making a bow, Shan leaves us.

"I am," I curtly affirm, and leave it at that. The Fire Lord need give no explanation or thanks. Neither does a prince, for that matter.

Unperturbed by my curtness, he continues, "I'm glad you're here, as there are certain things you should know in order to...fully cooperate with us."

"Fire away." I fight a sudden urge to smirk at my choice of idioms.

Shuffling the papers in front of him, Chao clears his throat.

"As you know, I have enlisted your help to get close enough to the Crown Prince that we can do away with him, making you the heir to the throne."

"I know that much. Just out of curiosity, what's in it for you?"

"Oh, not much," he returns modestly. "Just the favor that the Fire Lord will surely bestow on the one who procures his son unharmed. Naturally we'll blame your kidnapping on these Earth Kingdom peasants as soon as we arrive on Fire Nation ground.

"A fine plan. But I'd be very surprised if a crafty noble like yourself didn't have a few surprises up your sleeve."

Just as I'd intended, he looks flattered at my insult.

"You Highness, do you remember my niece, Jing Xiu, of whom I spoke at the banquet your father held some weeks ago?"

"Vaguely, yes."

"You see, it is my hope that you will reconsider your...indifference to her. Nothing would give me greater honor than to have a daughter of the humble Da family become wife to the future Fire Lord."

So. Was that why you killed Ursa? You plan to control me through your dull compliant niece instead?

"So, tell me," I begin with my best dangerous smile, "have you involved anyone else in this excellent little plot of yours? If so, I would love really love to be informed..."

"As it happens, there are others," confirms Chao with a nervous chuckle. When I raise an eyebrow, he confesses, "It seems the Dai Li have somehow gotten wind of our plan. They apparently mean to brainwash Your Highness in order to control the Fire Nation, as soon as you've taken care of the Crown Prince. Silly notion, isn't it?"

You've gone and involved the Earth King's secret police? Did history class teach you nothing?

All right, I understand that we can't all be as obsessed with old military and political texts as I am. But still, that was unbelievably stupid, even for the weaseldog in front of me.

"This has produced our need keep so many soldiers around," he continues. "It's for your own protection."

Admittedly, I can see where he'd want to keep me out of the clutches of the Dai Li. Even with my own scheming power to assist in the matter, it may prove difficult to deter them. As a future Fire Lord, however, I suppose I'll have to get used to knowing my enemies' plans better than they do themselves.

For now I lay it aside.

"What kind of weapon exactly are the pirates bringing to us?"

Appearing startled by my change of subject, Chao throws me a glance as though wondering if I've gone off the deep end. No, I'm just feeling a little irritable today (or tonight, as I still have no idea of the time). After all, I've just gotten my future bride killed, and a had lifelong allegiance destroyed.

"They are fetching for us a rare kind of poison, which, while rather bitter by itself, would be undetectable when slipped into, say, a cup of ginseng tea."

How ironic. I would cackle in glee, if it wouldn't convince Chao that I really have gone mad.

I always said tea would be the death of you, big brother.

"So when do I get to take a look at this poison I'll be slipping to Iroh?"

After seeming to weigh his options carefully, Chao favors me with a smile.

"I think that, as soon as we secure this death-dealing potion from the pirates, it would be appropriate to leave it in your keeping."

"Very well." That settled, I find the conversation starting to bore me. The real problem is how to prevent the Dai Li from sabotaging my attempt to seize the throne. Strangely, although my mind is perfectly cold and clear, my thoughts seem to blur at the edges.

"Your Highness," Chao's voice intrudes on my musings, "what if we were to use the pirates as a smokescreen to get the Dai Li off of our tail?"

"We shouldn't involve the pirates." At his confusion, I explain shortly, "I don't trust them."

If you knew what I've figured out about them, you wouldn't either.

* * *

Soon after starting another night's journey, Ursa and Kuzon finally came to a break in the trees, beyond which a cluster of small wooden houses lined a dusty track. Silently they passed by the dark, fearful windows, until they came to a little inn. In the midst of the Earth Kingdom village, the princess pulled Kuzon's cloak more snugly about her, and then realized that her companion had doubtless lent it out of more than simple courtesy. Her robes, although dingy, were a very Fire Nation red.

Going into the inn, they wound their way through the villagers conversing in low voices around them, until they came to a table in the back corner. Behind a Pai Sho board sat a young man in a simple green tunic.

"May I have this game, young one?" asked Kuzon.

"I'm ready when you are," replied the other, sitting taller in his seat.

After taking the empty chair, the old guard picked out the white lotus tile from those before him, and placed it in the center of the board. Choosing another game piece, the young man followed suit. Soon they were moving tiles to quickly for Ursa to follow, until the game pieces formed the pattern of a white lotus. All of a sudden the game stopped.

"Welcome, Brother," said the young Pai Sho player, inclining his head.

* * *

Mmm, it feels nice to lie down again and stop pulling at my injured muscles. All day I've been discussing coup details with Chao, being shown around the passages to his various secret rooms, lording my new authority over my thuggish tormentors. Chao has quite a treasure trove in one of those secret rooms. I suppose it's how he plans to pay the pirates.

If necessary, neither Chao nor I will hesitate to betray the other, to save ourselves from the blame of treachery. It's our unspoken agreement. Naturally, I'd have certain advantages if our plan were exposed, however. After all, I'm the prince here, not to mention Iroh's beloved little brother. Although you never know, Father might just love an excuse to ship me off to the Boiling Rock.

Eventually, when and if our scheme succeeds, I'll have no qualms about exposing Chao for the traitor he is. Once my place as the Fire Lord's only heir is secure, that scheming noble will be come more of a hindrance than a help.

Besides, Ursa deserves justice at least, even if her prince is a traitor now.

_Ah._ I don't want to think about you right now, turtleduckling. You've made my wounds start to ache again.

* * *

Following the Pai Sho player, Ursa and Kuzon slipped out the backdoor of the inn. After walking a short distance, they came to a little hut into which the young man motioned them. Inside was a single room with a table and a few chairs. Sitting down, he invited them to join them.

"My name is Kei. I'm an earthbender from Miss Wu's village, by the panda lily volcano."

"My name is Kuzon, from the village of Gyo by the sea."

"I've heard of you," said Kei with interest. "You were once Fire Nation, weren't you?"

"Yes. A long time ago."

The young man pointed at Ursa with his chin.

"Who's your companion?"

Instead of waiting for Kuzon to introduce her, the princess let her hood fall back.

"I am Ursa of the Fire Nation, granddaughter of Avatar Roku, and betrothed of Prince Ozai."

The earthbender expelled a deep breath.

"Miss Wu said you'd be here. Moreover, I've heard from...other sources that you're in some kind of trouble. Kuzon, isn't she being chased after by—"

"The Dai Li wanted me," the noblewoman cut in, quiet but firm. "They have some kind of plan in mind."

"Which is why we need your help to get a message to the Crown Prince," Kuzon put in. "Others will be in place to help us stop Chao's coup, and to take the princess and her betrothed out of immediate danger. However, Prince Iroh must be notified so that his company can prepare for future circumstances. In a matter of days, I hope very much that the prince and princess will be heading towards my village, but they may have pursuers hot on their heels.

On that note, we have learned that the Dai Li have taken an interest in Prince Ozai as well as Princess Ursa..."

As Kuzon quickly filled in the earthbender, Ursa's widened her eyes at the mention of "others" who would take them to rendezvous with the Crown Prince. For all she knew, Kuzon had been their only hope for leagues around. While she had mostly succeeded in making herself forgive the guard for hurting Ozai through her feigned death, the noblewoman felt her frustration rising at the presence of more secrets.

"All right, I'll make sure the Fire Lord's heir gets the message," muttered the young man. Seeming to bite back his next words, Kei threw a glance at Ursa. She stared back, attempting to channel her prince's smooth authority.

"What is it?" Kuzon asked evenly.

Turning away from the princess, Kei apparently decided that he didn't care if Ursa overhead.

"Look, I'm sure you know better than me that the mission of our Order is to protect beauty and truth, and so forth. In that case, won't this kind of go against our purpose, helping Fire Nation royals?"

* * *

The air is golden and dreamy. I hear laughter.

Before me a great tree spreads its branches. In their grassy shade kneels a white-haired old man, tall and powerful for his age, with a simple golden flame adorning his topknot. On the grass before him rests a teatray, and across from him—

I see her.

She's the one laughing in serene delight, as she pours a cup of tea from the steaming pot and passes it to her grandfather. He speaks in a kindly, wise-sounding tone. I can't catch what he says, but it makes Ursa laugh again.

I call out to them, but my voice can't reach where they are. It's as though I'm a ghost.

All of a sudden, the laughter dies away, and as one they turn to me in perfect silence.

They don't speak, only stare, piercing and expressionless.

Meeting the Avatar's gaze, suddenly I feel ashamed, as though he's telling me I've betrayed who I am as a firebender and a prince, a betrayal that runs far deeper than my latest act of treason.

But that can't be right—it was Roku who betrayed us all.

And Ursa... Those almond eyes hold me fast, though I long to look away. Innocent and lovely, she brings down judgment to sear my soul through its shield of flames.

I awaken, gasping, as my wounds ache.

* * *

"Kei, our purpose is also to protect the innocent, regardless of national boundaries."

"Can you really speak of Fire Nation royals as innocent?" protested the earthbender. "They're this close to wiping all of us out, just like the airbenders!"

As though tired, the old guard closed his eyes.

"If you must have a reason...one of the airbenders—the princess's grandfather, reborn—was a dear friend of mine, many years ago before Fire Lord Sozin started the war."

Momentarily Ursa forgot her fear Ozai and for herself, and her disquiet at Kei's prejudice. She looked at Kuzon in surprise as the younger man voiced her thoughts.

"You knew the Avatar?"

"I did, once."

"Then what happened to him? Why did he vanish?"

Curiously the princess watched the young earthbender's hopeful desperation, so different from her own nation's mistrust of the only one who could stop their victory. With an odd feeling in her stomach, Ursa reflected that the rest of the world did not view her grandfather (or his reincarnation) as a traitor, but as a savior and a hero. Perhaps if nothing else, she could pity their desire to protect the people they loved?

"No one knows what happened to the Avatar, or where he could have hidden," replied Kuzon, his voice heavy and sad. "However, for the memory of my friend, I want to help this young descendant of his former self. All the Order can do is to steward the world against the Avatar's return."

Unconvinced, Kei folded his arms.

"I hardly see how helping firebender royalty will help us steward the world."

"You must try to understand," Kuzon urged him. "It's the only way to break the cycle of cruelty, by mercy. We must change the thinking of the young. Even if our efforts bear no immediate fruits, they will remember our aid, and Prince Ozai or perhaps his son may tip the scale in finally restoring balance to the world."

Confused and mildly shocked, Ursa listened without a word. After finding out that Kuzon shared her nationality and wished to help her, she had expected him to conform somewhat to a mindset sanctioned by the Fire Lord. Yet instead, he had voiced the hope that her future husband or son would betray everything their nation held dear.

"That may be," allowed Kei. "But the fact remains that the Crown Prince already knows about mercy—or at least he should, being one of us. Yet I don't see him trying to talk his father out of burning down the Earth Kingdom village by village."

"For now, Prince Iroh believes in the paradigm created by his grandfather," acknowledged the old guard steadily. "Nonetheless, I believe that he truly values the ideals of our Order, although at present his purpose is to establish them throughout a conquered empire."

Yes, that was right, thought Ursa. Wise as he was, the Crown Prince was trying to redeem the ideals of the Order, by implementing them under Fire Nation rule.

"Then he's no different from the rest of them!" exclaimed the earthbender, gritting his teeth.

"Kei," said Kuzon sternly, "as you know, I am Fire Nation. I am one of the few left alive who remember the time before the war, when the nations lived in harmony."

"Yeah, there aren't too many who remember that any more," Kei observed flatly.

Unperturbed by the interruption, the older man went on.

"What I mean to say is that the Fire Lord's sons and even the Fire Lord himself grew up in the aftermath of Fire Lord Sozin's misguided bid for dominion, with wartime values drilled into them from birth. Unlike the Crown Prince and his brother, I remember another way we were taught to live. However, very much like the princes and like every Fire Nation citizen, I did grow up knowing the sovereignty of the Fire Lord. To disobey him in the slightest brings dishonor, which is worse than death."

Ursa might have expected the earthbender to speak as though her glorious princes and their mighty father were merely victims of a long dead Fire Lord's mistakes, but it was more than a little unsettling to hear her only ally putting forward these beliefs. Perhaps she could attribute it to Kuzon's having lived in the Earth Kingdom so long, or to his involvement with the White Lotus...in which case the Order's ideals truly did need redeeming.

"That makes no sense." Kei sounded as frustrated as she felt.

"I can see where the Fire Nation mindset is hard to understand," Kuzon avouched. "Think of it this way: the people of the Earth Kingdom are strong and enduring, like your element. In battle as in life, you face conflict head on, and never surrender without a fight. To give in would be—"

"...dishonor worse than death?" asked the earthbender skeptically.

"I'm glad you understand." However, it remained unclear whether Kei had laid aside his misgivings.

"Miss Wu said you'd say that." He looked away, and there was a pregnant pause.

Silently Ursa stood up, and came over to stand before him. At first she didn't speak, but only looked at him, until he met her eyes.

"Please, Kei, listen to me," she entreated softly. "Have you never...have you ever fallen in love with someone? Is there no-one who makes you feel as strong as the mountain, or as light as the green leaves in spring?"

Cautiously he nodded.

"I do have a girl back home."

"I know I'm not Earth Kingdom," she professed quietly, "but Prince Ozai is my mountain, and my springtime forest. Please—I don't want to be Oma. Don't let my Shu be lost."

As Kei regarded her, the wary wall softened into sand.

"I wouldn't have expected a Fire Nation princess to know that legend."

"I learned of it from my grandmother Ta Min, wife of Avatar Roku."

The earthbender sighed.

"You really take after your grandfather, don't you?" After another long pause, he looked back up at them.

"I guess none of us have much time to waste if we're going to save Shu's skin."

* * *

I can't do this. Not any more.

Lying facedown in the dark, I'm choking back madness, and bile, and...

Ursa. Oh, but the memories are killing me.

Slowly I sit up, and take a deep breath. She looked so at peace, there in the spirit world. I want to join her.

I want to die.

Hold on—now there's a thought.

What a mockery, what an amazing lie I've been constructing these past few days. The second prince who steals the throne.

No. Fire Lord Ozai will never be.

And pretty soon, Prince Ozai will cease to be as well.

He's going to die through "heroically" putting a stop to a traitor's ambitions, thereby saving the real Fire Lord and Crown Prince a whole lot of trouble.

But when you come down to it, my purpose won't have changed just to suit the loyalty I owe the Lord and his heir. They weren't enough (not even you, Father).

I want justice for Ursa, my love. I want to avenge her, and...

I need my honor back.

* * *

"Before you leave, there's something you should know," Kei told them urgently. "I have learned from our brothers in the Order that the Dai Li have already sent out a company from Ba Sing Se. I don't know how fast they're moving, but keep on the lookout."

"Thank you. We will be careful," Kuzon promised.

"You'd better. If I'm going to save a Fire Nation princess and her prince, I don't want my efforts wasted."

* * *

How pitiful. My attempt at treachery lasted less than a week. I guess an old sense of honor dies hard.

Allegiances aside, I've found myself much calmer since giving into my sense of shame. The hectic blurriness is gone from my thoughts, and when I do chance upon a memory of Ursa, my wounds don't ache so much as they did.

Eagerly I anticipate our reunion, beyond a prince's fall in this dull grey Kingdom.

At last the pirates have returned, and now I'm ready for them. Earlier I met them openly with Chao, and obtained my brother's poison.

"Oil of the Dragonsbane plant," said the captain as he handed it to me, "which brings death disguised as fevered illness."

Assassination under the guise of sickness...that rang a bell in my mind, but I don't have time to wonder about it now.

In the past week I've learned my way around here pretty well, so it doesn't take me long to find the room where the pirates are waiting for Chao to return with their promised reward. I still haven't seen the sun, but it doesn't really matter. At the moment, the only sunlight I'm interested in is that golden summery glow in an unearthly meadow, where a tall tree shades the teaparty of two happy ghosts.

Briskly striding into the room, I find the pirate captain sitting at a small table amidst several of his crew.

Ignoring the stares affixed on me, I address their leader.

"May I speak to you privately?"

He orders them out, and they pass by me warily. On second thought, Chao isn't going to like finding a bunch of pirates loitering in the hallway. But you know? I don't care.

Knowing I don't have much time, I slap the white lotus tile down onto the table.

"The white lotus opens wide to those who know her secrets."

As I recite the words I learned from Kuzon (through Ursa), the captain raises an eyebrow at me.

I allow myself a smirk.

"Truly it was very clever of you, hiding the words "Order of the White Lotus" in your ship's name." After thinking about it long and hard, I had figured out why the characters painted on the side of the ship hadn't looked quite right to me.

"So the lad has put his excellent mind to use, and picked out the clue of the Wakelooming Serpent," mused the captain. "I am of the Order, yes. I joined for the adventure, and the chance to, shall we say, look after rare keepsakes. There are some treasures that shouldn't fall into the wrong hands, you know."

Smiling grimly, I incline my head.

"I've no doubt. I assume Chao has promised you one such treasure, if you're working towards ends that are opposite from essentially the rest of the Order."

He gives me a hard look.

"I work where I see fit. If you could give me an incentive, I might work towards your ends, young princeling."

Princeling? That's new.

"As it happens, I believe I can. You got any explosives?'

* * *

There now, the entire tower is rigged to tumble down in a roaring red inferno, as soon as I send the slightest spark towards the oil-soaked wick beside me. The pirates set up the explosives earlier this evening, making great use of the secret passages. For the most part I've managed to keep Chao occupied, so he won't discover our little surprise.

In return, I told the pirates to carry off all of Chao's jewels from the chests in his treasure room, replacing them with bags of rock. After all, generosity becomes a prince.

Before they made off with my payment, however, I ransomed a small bag of golden coins and pressed into the hands of Shan, who's done such a good job tending to my lash wounds through their first few days of healing.

"You'll want to leave tonight. Take this as your pay."

Weighing the coin sack in his hands, the mercenary studied me with a question in his eyes.

Shaking my head, I let a ghost of my old dry chuckle escape me.

"Trust me, it's better that you're not here tonight."

Now, with everyone else long since asleep, I'm down here in the dark of my room, alone. In the morning, we had intended to head for the Fire Nation in the same ship that carried away the two of us, Ursa and me. Needless to say, there's been a slight change of plans.

In just a minute or so, I'll light the fuse that will take down the tower and all the traitors with it. All of them, especially the one with fire in his blood, whom Ursa loved.

Death by fire and stone. How fitting.

In my hand, I have the bottle of poison the pirate captain gave me. After studying it idly for a moment, I unscrew the lid.

I suppose if the bottle somehow survived the collapse, some vengeful traitor could still use it to endanger my brother, or father.

But that isn't the real reason I'm doing this.

I was going to steal your throne, big brother—so instead I'll drink your poison. You know, sense of honor and all that.

The false fever won't kick in for about a week, but that doesn't matter, as I'm not going to live that long.

I raise the bottle high.

"To Ursa."

By itself the liquid burns, without the tea that would have neutralized the taste. Outwardly, I'll admit that I'm coughing just a little, clutching my chest as I wait for the poison to settle and begin its slow work.

But in my giddy head, I'm laughing in delight. I'm free, or I will be soon—from everything, from the weight of dishonor and treason, from this tower and its darkness, from the pain of my wounds...

I'm coming, love. Wait for me, won't you?

* * *

Now for the single spark that sent the Emperor toppling down, as the proverb goes. Of course, I'd settle for keeping the Emperor atop his fiery dais.

A point of light in the darkness, creeping along the wick.

A defiled prince, waiting.

Waiting for honor, waiting for death. Waiting for his little lost turtleduck.

_Boom._ Another clap of burning thunder, and then another. They echo up the tower in a distant rumbling roar, as stone walls crack asunder, and great chunks of rock fall out of the ceiling. Reflexively I fling up my arms to protect my face as the first blast blows me out of my room through a newly appeared opening.

Disoriented and shaken, I feel exhilaration rushing through me at the marvelous destructive chaos. Fire. It's so inexpressively beautiful, flickering and roaring here like the soul of honor that destiny gave me, in place of a heart.

For a moment, I fancy her face, staring at me in the flames.

_Crack._

I don't remember having that explosion rigged. The wall beside me blows open, revealing a rough tunnel slanting up towards the blinding sky.

A figure appears, silhouetted against the brightness.

"Hallo there, lad! Are ye going to wait down there to die?"

Yes, I was, thank you.

I ignore the pirate captain. Soon enough the tower and the fire will end our conversation.

"Why not try joining my crew, since it seems you've nothing else to tie you down?"

Is he mad? I'm trying to enjoy my heroic angsty death, here.

A gigantic slab of stone misses me by inches, half blocking the way out.

"If riches and adventure cannot persuade you, then look there, grandson of Sozin!"

Considering his usual monikers for me, this mode of address definitely gets my attention, which I suppose is what he wants. All the same, I refuse to come out and look at whatever he's pointing at.

As the groundshaking rumble grows louder, the pirate cups his hands around his mouth and shouts down to me.

"I don't imagine she'll be too pleased if you go and let yourself die."

She...? No. He can't have meant—it's impossible. I want to die here. Right now. But still...I have to know...

Before I can talk myself back into suicide, I make a dive for the partially obstructed opening. Racing up the passage, I hear rocks and earth crashing down behind me.

I reach the opening, pushing past the pirate. It's hard to see very much as I squint my eyes in pain against the dawnlit sky, but I can tell that we're a few yards away from the center of the explosion.

There. My heart stops, and then beats as though it wants to explode just like the tower behind me.

* * *

When the tower began collapsing on itself against the pre-dawn sky, Ursa gasped in horror. Leaving Kuzon behind, she broke into a run. Near the tower's base she spotted the pirate captain, apparently calling down to someone.

_Please, let it be him,_ she had prayed.

* * *

She can't be real. I've gone mad. Anointed by the rising sun, my Ursa is hurrying to meet me, eyes lighting up when she sees me. Did I die back there in the tower, after all? Has the poison turned me delirious?

The pirate captain pushes me towards her, and further away from the exploding tower.

* * *

At first her heart sank when a figure in green emerged—but no, it was him after all, shielding his eyes against the still-faint dawn. She pushed herself harder, desperate to reach him, to make sure he was real and not a phantom like those who had haunted her dreams and nightmares these past few days. Hardly touching the ground, Ursa felt as though she could take flight at any moment.

Almost there...

* * *

She might be a spirit, but she feels real enough, wrapping slender arms around my dizzy frame, looking up into my haggard face...

Without thinking about it, I kiss her like a madman, fingers tangling in her silken hair as I press her tightly to me. I have to make sure she's real.

* * *

In a blissful daze, Ursa melted into his arms.

When at last he broke the kiss, the prince stared at her with haunted gold.

"You're alive."

A glint of silver flashed in the dawnlight as it coursed down his cheek.

* * *

An alien substance escapes from one eye, blurring my vision as my throat constricts painfully. Lifting up a corner of her cloak, Ursa wipes my face dry, and regards me with a tender smile.

"I'm alive, Ozai. I'm here now."

Pressing my forehead to hers, I wait for the odd choking sensation to release my vocal chords.

"How—I thought—I saw you, lying there dead..."

"Oh my love, I'm so sorry." I hear an answering tremor in her own voice. "It was a trick, to save me from Chao. He was going to kill me. Kuzon wanted to tell you, but...he couldn't."

Slow down, I beg you. Right now I can hardly understand that you're alive, much less all this talk of strategies. She's still speaking, crooning words just for me, and I drown myself in the sweet lilting timbre of her voice.

"I've been so afraid for you all this time, while we were sending a message through the Order to Prince Iroh, and then racing back here, not knowing if the Dai Li or some other danger would find you, and then the tower crumbling down... But I'm back now. And you're safe."

You're back, and I'm with you. And that's all that matters.

* * *

Still held fast by the arms of a dazed Fire Prince, Ursa turned her head at the pirate's shout.

"Well then, young royals and fellow initiate, what say we make for my ship and test what speed the Serpent has in her?"

Kuzon shook his head.

"I thank you, but the Lotus needs me elsewhere. I'm going to make sure that none of our enemies escaped to provide information to the Dai Li. Please look after these young ones for me."

Surprised, Ursa looked at him worriedly.

"You're leaving? But...will you be all right?"

He smiled at her fondly.

"Allow an old man his mystique, Princess. I'm not as easily taken down as I look." Without another word, he took off at a rapid jog.

"Thank you for everything!" Ursa called after him, and the old guard raised a hand in acknowledgment and farewell.

Left alone with her prince and the pirate, it suddenly hit her what the captain had said.

"Did you say...fellow initiate? Of the White Lotus?"

"Indeed I did, wily maid. May I offer you and the prince a voyage on the Wakelooming Serpent?' Magnanimously he bowed.

Recognizing that no time remained for explanations, Ursa took a step to follow him, half expecting her betrothed to stumble alongside her. However, it was Ozai who sprang into action, shepherding his princess away from danger and after the pirate. Throwing a glance at the mostly settled wreckage behind her, Ursa had the impression that a whole slew of mad earthbenders had gone on a rampage.

Soon they came to a pair of komodo rhinos tethered to a tree.

"I 'traded' these two beasts from a Fire colony on the way here," said the pirate. "I assure you, their previous owners were happy to donate to their prince's need."

"Such loyal subjects I have," murmured Ozai. Shortly the animals were untethered. Then, with a burst of power that left Ursa breathless, the firebender took hold of his princess by the waist and tossed her onto the nearest rhino. After himself swinging himself up to take the reigns, he looked over the pirate, who had also mounted.

"Where to, Captain?"

"Why, the western sea." He clicked to the animal, and it took off through the trees.

Ozai flicked the reigns, and Ursa hugged his waist nervously as their own mount galloped away.

* * *

**A/N: And they're off! Our prince being awesome, as usual, as he gallops away with his princess by komodo rhino. Don't worry, there's lots more to come—we have to resolve that bit about the poison after all!—but I figured you and I both deserved a happy cliffhanger after all the angst.**

**So, by now you may have recognized that a few of the plot points are borrowed from Romeo and Juliet. I suppose the Oma/Shu reference kind of fit in with that, since they're the Avatar version of doomed lovers. Speaking of poison, I just made up names that sounded Avatar-ish for the potions Ozai and Ursa each drink. Adding "dragon" to a plant name to make it more Avatarish is a trick I learned from Excerpts from the Diary of Princess Ursa, by Karalora (and in this case I loved the irony of the name Dragonsbane since it's supposed to be the "bane" of Iroh, the Dragon). Also, I vaguely remembered a proverb about something tiny like a spark/grain of rice taking down the Emperor, but Google failed me, so I came up with a Fire Nation-sounding version of that too.**

**By the way, the pirate's line about "She won't be pleased if you die" was inspired by (and somewhat changed from) a wonderful postwar Urzai fic called Beating Hearts Grow but Never Die, by Taurus3rockergirl. You all really should read that fic. **

**Oh, and the name of the Wakelooming Serpent (WLS) was chosen to have the same initials as the White Lotus Society. Too bad I didn't remember that they're called the Order of the White Lotus (OWL?) in the actual show. Anyway, that was my attempt at 'translating' the secret clue hidden in the ship name's Chinese characters, for an English-speaking audience. Speaking of translating, "Gyo" (as in the village of) is just the Chinese reading for the Japanese character for "sakana," which means "fish." Pretty uncreative, for a Japanese language student I mean.**

**It was a little hard to juggle all the plotlines that are coming to light in this chapter, and I've realized there is yet more plothunting I have to do! Why do I always do this to myself? Well, there's also lots more Urzai fluff in the next couple of chapters, so look forward to that. ;) **

**The song of the chapter is Leave Out All the Rest by Linkin Park. The next chapter's song is Shot by The Rasmus.**

**I may delay a bit in writing the next chapter, one of the reasons being that I have to finish getting my young Ursa cosplay ready for the San Diego Comic Con this week! ^^ If any of you are attending, look for the Ursa with long (waistlength) gold-ish brown hair. **

**Anyway, thanks for reading! I appreciate it.**


	15. The Cave of Two Lovers

**A/N: Sincerest apologies, and thank you for your patience! More of this A/N at the end.**

* * *

Late that morning, they hurtled out of the trees and into sight of the sea, where just off shore the pirate ship loomed. Up ahead, the captain halted his mount and swung himself down. After pulling hard on the reigns, Ozai leapt down too, his agility quite impressive considering what he'd endured the past fortnight.

"You're coming too, princess." Next thing she knew, Ursa falling into his arms, which held her tight as they went tumbling to the ground in a rumpled heap. Scrambling to sit up, she peered into the face of her prince, who hadn't yet moved. His expression showed no discomfort, only a blank of surprise.

"That's odd...I must not have centered myself." Then with a wry grimace, he let Ursa help him up.

"I hate to break you two lovebirds apart," the captain called from the entry ramp, "but you might want to wait on your dalliances till we're safely aboard."

Channeling her firebender's composure, the princess managed to keep herself from looking too embarrased. The prince, for his part, raised an eyebrow at her.

"He's got a point, you know."

"Now, for getting these rhinos aboard," they heard the captain mutter. Looking up at the ship, he bellowed, "I need six able-bodied lads to bring aboard the livestock!"

"Just curious, but what do you plan to do with them?" queried Ozai.

"We can't have the Dai Li following a trail of abandoned rhinos, can we?" returned the pirate. "Besides, I can trade these for a hefty sum at the next port."

"But of course."

When the other crew members appeared, the komodo rhinos were coaxed aboard, Ursa and the still weakened prince staying out of the way. (If Ozai's exclusion from this labor bothered him, he gave no sign). How they got the rhinos into the cargo hold, the noblewoman had no idea. But as soon as the coast was clear, she and Ozai followed the pirates aboard, and the crew pulled up the ramp behind them.

"First thing's first-the two of you get yourselves below decks, and stay there," the captain directed. "If I'm going to harbor fugitives, the least they can do is make themselves scarce. Knives, show them to a cabin."

* * *

The cabin was unadorned but clean, a welcome change from dungeons and the forest floor.

"Cap'n says you have to wear these." The cabin boy let himself in, carrying an armload of clothing that

bore no hallmarks of a specific nation.

"These are for you." Knives thrust half of the armload at Ursa. "They're probably too big, but we have to hide the face that you're a girl."

She took them.

"Do we expect the Dai Li to catch up to us?"

Knives rolled his eyes.

"Of course not. No one can catch Cap'n. But you have to disguise yourself anyway." He held out the rest of the pile to Ozai. "These are yours. They'll probably hang off you a bit, like handmedowns always do with me. The only guy that's as tall as you has a way bigger chest."

"Oh he does, does he?" muttered the firebender.

"All right, I'm leaving now. Cap'n wants to see you when you're done." So saying, Knives left the small room.

Staring at her change of clothes, Ursa's brow furrowed..

"Ozai, how are we going to..._Ozai_!"

Evidently not feeling the allegiance to propriety that she did, the prince had begun unfastening his outer robe without further ado.

"Ursa," he said in fond reproach, "if you're this nervous about changing clothes, how do you expect to survive being married to me?" Pulling the green robe off over his head, he paused to look at her. "Relax, it's not like we're stripping nude. If you're so shy, turn around," he instructed with a twirl of his finger.

Strangely reassured by his blithe tone, Ursa did so. While changing, she tried not to worry about whether he'd follow his own advice. Then again, she wasn't entirely sure she'd mind if the prince failed to look away, and that proved even more confusing.

When they finished, Ozai struck a dashing pose.

"Doesn't piracy suit me nicely?"

For the first time in a long while, Ursa laughed.

"All hail the dread pirate Ozai!"

"Not to mention his lovely pirate wench." He held out a hand. "Come on, wench, I think we have an audience with the captain."

* * *

It turned out the captain wanted to hear their lifestories over lunch, a lunch the like of which they had not seen in days. Or rather, he wanted their history as it related to the waters and ships of the Fire Nation.

"That's hardly information to ask of the Fire Lord's son," Ozai pointed out, seeming goodhumored except for a tensing of his jaw.

The captain met his stare with a glint in his eye.

"I am saving your life, young princeling."

"I'll see what I can tell you," came the smooth reply. While they ate, Ozai recounted his exploits in the military, managing to keep his stories entertaining but vague. Ursa listened in fascination to their verbal swordplay, which lasted well into the afternoon. Each time pirate pressed for further details or asked a loaded question, and the prince sidestepped the query or moved to a new subject entirely.

"Look at the time," the captain said at last, leaning back in his chair. "Say, would you like to join us for music night? It's an old 'trader' tradition. Since it's getting dark, I'll allow you on deck."

Although Ursa was tired, they accepted his offer, much to the delight of the crew. After a few bawdy choruses and several bottles of rum, the general consensus was that Ozai should contribute a song.

"If you insist." He shared an amused glance with his fiancee. "Now, how did that one song go? Ah, yes.

"_It's a long, long way to Ba Sing Se_  
_But the girls in the city, they look so pretty-"_

He winked at Ursa.

_"...And they kiss so sweet that you've really got to meet_  
_The girls of Ba Sing Se!"_

His voice was low and a little husky but not unpleasant, and despite the song's silliness, Ursa found it a welcome respite from the usual pirate songs. So did the pirates, apparently.

"Sing it again!" they urged.

He obliged, and this time, he ended the last note by planting a kiss on Ursa's cheek.

Amid the shouts of laughter, Ozai looked at his fiancee for a moment, and then turned to the crew.

"It seems all this revelry and carousel has tuckered out my wench here, so I think we'd better get below deck."

The captain made a shooing motion.

"Off with you. No doubt you've provided enough entertainment for one evening."

As they made their way back below deck, his arm nestled snugly around Ursa's waist-and not simply out of affection, she soon realized. On the stairs, her prince put a hand on the wall as if for support, and she noticed how tired he looked now that he'd dropped the charisma.

"Ozai? are you all right?"

He nodded.

"It's the lash marks, that's all." Despite his reassurance, Ursa swallowed, feeling cold. Now that they were finally free from Chao, she wanted to depend on her unfazable prince once more. But it looked like she would have to go on learning to bring a noblewoman's quiet strength into the maddening clamor of war and treachery.

When they arrived at the cabin, Ozai took one look at her worried face and gave a halfhearted smile.

"Easy now, turtleduck. I'll be fine. Now come here."

She took her now accustomed place in his arms, and they both lay in silence for a while on the pile of spare blankets spread out for a pallet.

Ursa had too much on her mind to sleep, but she couldn't think how to voice any of it.

Finally she said, "I like that song you sang." The prince had ensured, after all, that she'd remember it fondly.

"I stole it from Iroh," he revealed with a shameless grin.

She laughed, and then sobered.

"Ozai...where are they taking us?" In all the day's activity, she'd forgotten to ask.

"There's a Fire Nation colony not far from here. They plan to drop us off early tomorrow." He sounded half asleep, so the princess tried to quell her worries for tonight. She had found the most effective way to clear her mind, these days, was to focus on the sound of his breathing as she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Soon after sunrise, they were let off near the village, as the pirates wished to make a discreet exit. They had changed back into their own clothes, Ozai in blood-stained green and Ursa in travel-stained red. After walking through the trees a short way, they arrived at the edge of a village square that was deserted except for the hustle and bustle of the very earliest risers. From the house nearest them emerged an old woman carrying a basket of laundry to hang out to dry. Recognizing her from the captain's description, the two approached her.

"Excuse me," said Ozai. "I am Lee, and this is my wife, Ming." Ursa's heart warmed a little. It was one thing to plan on presenting themselves as a married couple; it was another to actually hear herself introduced as his wife.

"We are refugees from a colony up the road," the prince went on. "Earth Kingdom soldiers attacked our town."

"Oh, you poor dears! Quickly, come inside." Becoming a study in grandmotherly concern, she ushered them into the two room cottage, which had bunches of dried herbs hanging from the ceiling. Little phials and ointment jars lined shelves around the room.

"You must have been through a great deal to come here," she surmised, taking in their wayworn appearances.

The prince affirmed with a nod.

"We're looking for Prince Iroh's camp. My brother is serving in his regiment."

"He is very near," their host told them, sounding excited. She opened a door into the back room, revealing a pallet, an old chest, and a well swept hearth. "I keep this room ready for wayfarers like yourself. Rest here for today, and then you can travel again tomorrow. By the way, my name is Biyu."

"We are indebted to you," said Ursa with great feeling.

"Give me two drips of the waterclock, and I'll whip up some breakfast for you," came the cheery response.

"Ursa, do you still have that white lotus tile?" Ozai asked her once they were alone.

"Yes." She retrieved it from her sash. After their reunion, the prince had insisted with a strange urgency that she remain its keeper.

"Put it on the table there. I have a theory to test."

Soon their host returned carrying two bowls of steaming rice and dumplings. Setting them down on the table, she caught sight of the game piece.

"Ah." Picking it up, Biyu studied it a moment and then looked up. "It is an honor to give you shelter, Highnesses."

Ozai looked impressed.

"The Order has a prompt network indeed.""

Her merry eyes crinkled into a smile.

"It's hardly all that. Kuzon is my husband. He sent a message that you'd be coming."

"So he's safe, then?" guessed Ursa, relieved.

"He was a day ago. Don't worry, my dear, that old rascal can take care of himself."

She looked at the firebender. "I'm told that Your Highness is wounded."

Grimacing, he tried to brush it off.

"I ran afoul of some Earth Kingdom mercenaries."

"I have some skill in healing," said Biyu. "Perhaps you should let me have a look."

Ozai seemed about to dismiss the offer, but then glanced at Ursa.

"I suppose it can't hurt."

But it did hurt, as she knew from watching the prince grit his teeth together, muscles tense beneath the healer's gentle hands. He lay on the pallet on his stomach, fingers twisting the cloth of Ursa's robe while her own traced through his dark tangled hair.

With the wounds rebound, their host retreated to allow them some privacy.

"Ursa-lie down with me, won't you?' As in the pirate ship, she noticed the lines of exhaustion on his face.

But his request surprised her, coming now.

"Ozai, I-"

Her betrothed reached out to curl long fingers around her forearm, his voice playful but with an edge of finality.

"Come here or I will drag you down with me."

Not at all unwilling, she complied, and found herself turned into a human pillow. His head on her shoulder, the prince had settled most of his bandaged torso on top of her. Almost dreamily, he took her wrist between the thumb and forefinger, and pressed his dry lips to her palm. Weariness and thirst couldn't change one fact: the kiss sent a shiver all through her. As though he'd felt it too, Ozai tightened his embrace.

"When Biyu comes back in, she'll see us..." Ursa reminded him, wondering how much faster her heart could beat and remain intact.

"I don't care." He sounded quiet but sure and almost carefree. "We told her we were married, anyway."

His lapse of memory made the princess bite her lip.

"Ozai-she knows who we are. Remember?"

"Does she? Ah, yes, that's right." He had gone from intent to vaguely puzzled, and now she heard a shrug in his voice. "In any case, we're as good as married."

"I suppose you're right." Setting worry aside, she allowed a girlish glow to rise from those words.

* * *

When a knock on the door came, Ursa unwound herself from Ozai's sleeping form, smoothed her hair and returned to a respectable sitting position just as Biyu let herself in.

"I've brought some rice and noodles for you two." She caught sight of the prince, and clucked fondly. "We'll let him rest, then. But here, you should eat. I'll put his bowl by the fire in case he wakes soon."

While Ursa ate, Biyu related the latest message from Kuzon, and made the noblewoman memorize the directions to Prince Iroh's camp.

When the prince began to stir, Biyu gave Ursa a knowing smile and got up to leave.

"Make sure he eats, Princess, if you can."

Once alone, she turned back to Ozai. His eyes opened, a bit bleary, and found her face.

"Did I sleep long?"

"Not more than half an hour. Biyu came with some lunch for us." She brought him the bowl from the fireplace.

He ate in silence, seeming ravenous.

With that seen to, Ursa got up to retrieve a robe of Kuzon's that their host had laid out for the firebender. Biyu had insisted on washing their dusty clothing before they set out again, and she had given Ursa some of her own clothes to change into.

Coming back with the robe, the princess draped it around her prince's shoulders. Setting the bowl down, Ozai caught at the fabric to pull it closer around him. He met Ursa's eyes, his calm, brisk manner unaffected by the gauntness in his face.

"We have to figure out how to get to Iroh's camp from here. I gather that our host is familiar with-"

"She told me how to get there." Quickly Ursa relayed the directions.

"That sounds straightforward enough. Did she give you any news about the Dai Li?"

She looked down at her hands, in part to steady herself.

"We don't know exactly where they are, but the White Lotus is trying to lay a false trail, and it seems to be working. They're probably several days behind us."

"Even so, we can't stay in one place too long."

"Biyu says we should leave at dawn. She wants us to travel in the clothes she gave us so we won't stand out as much. Especially since I'd have to wear that bright red gown, otherwise."

Ozai studied her thoughtfully.

"I like you in red-red for passion and lilies. But you do look lovely in that shade of brown."

Ursa's heart fluttered to hear him say so, but the blurred look in his eyes made her worry that he was slipping out of touch with reality—which was not a good thing with the danger at hand.

At her concerned look, Ozai shook his head with a rueful look.

"Sorry, love. I think Iroh must be rubbing off on me. I'm turning poetic in my old age..."

"Don't apologize-I like your poetic moments." Ursa was worried for his health and possibly his sanity, but she didn't want her prince to think he could only be poetic while sick and weary. If he did, she would miss the more romantic of his musings.

He threw her a look of mock passion.

"_Darling_, if you were any more adorable..."

He left it hanging.

* * *

"Quickly, you must go!" Biyu had burst into the room, her face white. "I've just received word from Kuzon-the Dai Li are closer on your trail than we thought, and will be here with within a day!"

She led them out the back door and hurried into the trees, where she stopped for a final admonition.

"Ursa dear, remember the directions that I told you. And look after your prince, all right? And you, Highness..."

They shared a strange look, Ozai stony-faced and Biyu somehow a little sad.

"Try to make it to your brother's camp in time, all right?"

This puzzled Ursa, but Biyu was urging them to make haste.

"No time for goodbyes," she said. "But may the spirits watch over you."

After taking leave of her, they moved quickly through the gathering dusk. In the darkening twilight, they didn't notice the clouds gathering overhead until the first drops of rain began to fall. Soon it had strengthened into a downpour, drenching them to the bone despite the branches overhead.

For an hour or two they marched doggedly onward. Then Ursa's heart skipped a beat when Ozai slipped on a slick patch of mud and went crashing to the ground.

Kneeling down beside him, Ursa spoke in as calm a voice as she could muster.

"We can't go on like this. Not tonight."

"There's a cave over there," he replied, barely audible. "But I think...you might have to help me if we're going to get there."

The admission of weakness frightened her more than the rainstorm and the Dai Li.

With Ursa half supporting her firebender, they made it to the steep hillside where Ozai had spotted an opening in the rocks. Crawling inside, they found it was quite a deep cave, with a dry sandy floor and enough room to sit comfortably. The hillside even had an overhang that sheltered the cave's entrance from rainwater.

Once inside, Ursa made them both remove their muddied outer layers, and rinsed their clothing in the rain as best she could. Although he looked ready to pass out, Ozai surprised her by his insistence on building a fire, "to keep you warm," as he told the princess.

"At this point, a little bending can't make matters worse. Just help me find whatever firewood or fallen leaves that you can. I'll burn it till it catches fire." His voice was grim and lighthearted both at once.

They managed to find enough kindling to get a small fire going, although lighting the wet firewood took the prince a few tries. Using loose stones, he built a small firepit near the entrance, and Ursa laid their clothes on the sandy floor.

The fire seen to, they both slept.

* * *

She woke up later to see him sitting up by the firepit, the pensive light flickering on his face.

"Are you feeling stronger, my love?"

He nodded.

"It helps, being near my element."

"I'm glad." She allowed herself a small sigh of relief.

"Come over here, won't you, turtleduck?" He held out a hand. "Keep me warm."

"Doesn't the fire warm you?" She was moving closer anyway, but her worry for him was near constant by now.

The half smile flickered in and out of sight.

"I think you do it better."

Long arms reached out for Ursa, and next moment she was sitting on his knees, her own on either side of him. His eyes were level with hers, but almost too close to appear more than a golden blur, like the fire. Being so close gave Ursa as many butterfly-moths as ever, but she met them with a thrill of courage.

Ozai studied her face.

"I think I'm coming down with something," he confessed. "A fever, maybe."

"You have been through a lot." Ursa bit her lip. "We'll reach your brother's camp tomorrow/soon. Try to hold on till then, all right?"

"That's been my motto this week." There was a bleakness in his smile, a too-dark shadow behind the fire in his eyes. During this journey home she had caught glimpses of pain and even sorrow in his face, but for the most part he veiled them with a grave inhuman distance, and the elegiac silence of a statue.

"Ozai-you keep looking at me as though...as though you're saying goodbye. I'm afraid there's something wrong, something you're not telling me."

"That might be because...there is."

At her look of concern, the prince closed his eyes, looking old and worn.

"A lot of things happened while you were away, Ursa."

She thought of the night she'd woken in the woods, realizing her beloved was facing the one prospect that would terrify herself the most.

"I'm so sorry-if i'd known Kuzon wouldn't be able to tell you I wasn't dead-"

"_Don't_." The word was sharp and sudden. Then he softened, and tried to smile. "It's all right, Ursa. There's nothing to be done about it. You're with me now."

"I'm here. Always. But if there is something bothering you..."

Ozai looked away, pursing his lips in thought.

"Would you understand if I said I wasn't ready to tell you?"

Relieved nonetheless, she offered a hesitant smile.

"Tell me whenever you're ready-or even not at all."

His brow cleared, the shadow gone at least for the moment.

"There is, in fact, something I think you need to be told..." His voice was low, almost a purr. One arm snaked around her waist, and lithe fingers caught her chin. Her relative calm vanishing, Ursa was vividly reminded just how much the prince made her blush and flutter.

"Wouldn't you like to hear it?" he murmured, looking very smug. The princess found herself gently but inexorably pulled even closer to his bare chest, as the arm around her tightened. It became impossible to drop her eyes from those full lips as they smiled at her.

"Yes, I would," she said in a small voice, hardly daring to breathe.

"All right then. You, Princess Ursa, are by far the most breathtakingly gorgeous woman in the Fire Nation." Before Ursa could reply or even process what he'd said, she was tasting his mouth instead of looking at it-spices and the bitterness of destiny.

The balance of her world shifted, backwards and down. Laying her down gently on the cave floor, Ozai settled himself ontop of her, a heavy molten gaze capturing her own.

Staring at him wide-eyed, Ursa's mouth started to form an O of inquiry-but the prince laid a finger to her lips.

"Not a word." She heard the coiled tension, even a note of warning. "At this moment, if you asked it of me, if you even said my name, I would...take you right now." With a tenderness foreign in its power, he lowered himself to kiss Ursa once more, his hands cradling her head as though she were of the finest porcelain.

Pressing warm lips to her cheek, he traced her jawline with a finger.

"I would make your body sing, and murmur in your ear, just like this..._I love you_."

Such raw feeling infused those words, as if the blazing inferno itself had declared it's passion for Ursa. She gasped, and startled herself by arching into his embrace.

"Ozai."

She heard a sharp intake of breath, and his eyes held her own again, waiting.

"Ozai, my love-I'm your bride, or I will be. I want to spend tonight in my husband's arms."

He searched her face a long moment, and the blaze calmed to a glow of embers. A crooked smile appeared, and perhaps a trace of wistfulness. He laid himself beside her, slid one arm beneath her back and turned her face to look at him.

A mix of feelings churned in Ursa.

"Ozai-why...? I don't understand."

"I don't either," said the prince, looking bemused and a little sad. "Maybe...maybe I just want to let the butterfly-moth fly away, for once in my life."

"But if she comes back..."

"You did come back to your candleflame, didn't you?" he returned thoughtfully, with a fond quirk of his mouth. "Then I suppose he'd like to save your gilded wings from the fire, just this once." He kissed her brow as in blessing, and lingered a moment longer. "Just this once."

But she missed the dizzying firestorm.

"Then I...then don't hold back, next time," she said earnestly. "Don't spare me."

Ozai gave a strangled sort of groan, eyes once more blazing.

"Promise me, Ursa. Promise me this. Say you will always need my embrace."

There it was again-the desperate shadow that haunted his eyes, when he looked at her.

It took an effort to keep her voice from trembling.

"I will always need you to hold me."

The prince sighed as in relief, and closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry, turtleduck..." he said drowsily. "...To make up for all our frustrated passions, shall I sing you a lullaby instead?"

"Yes-please." She moved one hand to cradle his hollow cheekbone.

He began to sing, soft and more human now, without the bold charisma he'd displayed before the pirates.

_"Leaves from the vine,_  
F_alling so slow,_  
L_ike fragile, tiny shells,_  
D_rifting in the foam._  
_Little soldier girl,_  
_Come marching home._  
_Brave soldier girl_  
_Comes marching home."_

* * *

**A/N: Ah, the cave scene, as I've been calling it for years now. Yes, years. I've been waiting to write that ever since the beginning of this fic. 3 **

**But I (obviously, I hope) don't want posting to become a yearly occurrence, so I'm asking for help from you, my readers. I think this story and those who've enjoyed it as much as I do deserve the same passion and life I was able to give this fic in the beginning—I still love Urzai and this fic, I'm just a bit burnt out.**

**So! I have a few ideas for the end, which is just a few chapters away, but I feel like it's not as dramatic or spectacular as it could be. I want to end with a bang! So if you have any ideas about what you think should happen, let me know in a review! I can't make promises, but any brainstorming will be appreciated.**

**And yes, Biyu guessed about the poison. I figured she might be able to, being a healer. And no, I don't know whether EK houses really have hearth...I suspect not. I'm losing it slightly, just like Ozai. ^^' **


	16. Like Tui and Agni

**A/N: Sorry for the wait! I hope this chapter's worth it. :) And thanks for reading!**

**Also, fair warning: There's a scene at the end of this chapter that quite possibly exceeds the T rating. Basically, things Really Heat Up. Hey, it's Urzai...when do they not heat up? But yes, consider yourself warned. And naturally, I do not own Ursa and Ozai or Avatar. That's the beauty of fanfiction, don' cha know.**

* * *

Ursa opened her eyes, and frowned at the way sweat glistened on her prince's forehead. He hadn't been kidding about the fever.

She sat up and leaned over him, putting one hand gently on the side of his face. His eyes moved back and forth quickly under their lids.

"Ozai?" He started awake. Even for that fire-gold, his eyes were unnaturally bright, with dark circles underneath.

"Right. We have to go." He said it in a low voice: determination but no energy.

They dressed and cleared away the evidence of their night in a cave. They had hardly begun walking again when Ozai stumbled, catching himself against a tree. He leaned against the trunk a moment, breathing hard.

"Ursa, you're going to have to lead, like you did before. My sense of direction is compromised." He didn't sound distressed, but the admission unnerved her.

On the other hand, it was nice being allowed to take care of him.

"It's this way." She took his hand. which he pressed tightly in his own.

After an hour or so, they broke through the trees, and Ursa drew a shaky breath of relief. There was Iroh's encampment, with the lovely, glorious Fire insignia everywhere: red on black, black on red.

"We've arrived, love. It's-"

She stopped, not sure if he was listening. He stared at the camp before them, and licked his dry lips.

He looked back at her with a fond, silly smile, a wry look of defeat and triumph.

"Come, turtleduck." Ozai pulled her towards him by the hand still in his. "I'll take you home."

A few yards away, a familiar soldier with a scraggly excuse for sideburns was pacing back and forth.

He looked at them, froze, and started bellowing orders.

"You there, alert the commander! Wake up, men! And someone get a physician! We've got the prince and princess on the outskirts of camp. Don't stand there, get moving!"

With people scattering in all directions, Zhao jogged up to Ursa and Ozai. His eyes were blazing with vehemence and exuberant relief, but his tone was brisk and to the point.

"So. Any potentially fatal injuries? Ursa?" She shook her head.

"What about the old hothead?" His attempted grin faded. "Hey Ozai, are you all right? You look sort of bleary-eyed."

The prince was looking at Zhao, but his eyes were unfocused, and he seemed far away.

He smiled faintly, amused.

"Still no subtlety-" A bout of coughing cut him off, and made the clear-eyed warrior return to his fever-flushed expression. "Iroh, my brother...where is he?"

"OZAI!" The Dragon was there as quick as lightning, and he gathered them both into a very tight hug. The younger prince gave a muffled grunt, which Ursa hoped was merely his usual exasperation at brotherly affection, rather than actual pain.

Releasing them, Iroh studied their faces closely, and frowned.

"No, my brother, you don't looked well at all. Ursa, let's go inside and we'll-"

"Iroh." He said it sharply, breath sounding labored.

"Ozai."

He gritted his teeth, noticeably swaying.

"Iroh...I've drunk your poison."

With that sentence he collapsed, and Zhao and Iroh just barely caught him. Three voices cried out in dismay, and Ursa dimly realized one of them was her own. Something wet rolled down her cheek, and she heard herself shouting at her prince.

"Ozai, _Ozai!_ My love, wake up!"

"Ursa, it's going to be alright." Piandao was there, arms catching her just as she stumbled in exhaustion. "They're taking him to the medical tent."

He repeated this over and over, and it was the only thing Ursa saw or heard as they crossed the camp.

* * *

The doctors faced an immense challenge in exiling the Ozai's brother and his fiancee from his bedside. In the end, Ursa would only depart because Iroh gently but forcibly dragged her from the room.

Once outside, messages and matters of concern began dividing up the Crown Prince's time and attention.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," he promised, looking haggard behind the military training that had conditioned him to still function and think in circumstances like these.

Ursa nodded. She would stand guard outside this tent until Doomsday.

He smiled a little, and his voice wavered.

"I can never thank the spirits enough for returning you to us. And I promise, that boy of ours is going to be all right."

She blanked out then, standing like a statue where not even her own thoughts could reach. Prince Iroh could have been gone fifteen minutes or an hour. She didn't know and didn't care.

Then, slightly lucid again, she narrowed her eyes at the sky, wondering how it had the nerve to unmask the sun only now, when her fire prince was dying. Piandao stood with her, his stance casual and his eyes alert.

_Thump!_

Ursa jumped like a restless komodo-rhino as a greenclad person crashed to the ground at her feet. His wide conical hat away rolled away into the grass revealing a long black braid, which belonged to a boy around the same age as herself.

"I've brought one of those slippery Dai Li molerats to see us." Zhao was half smirk, half glower, and all bravado. "Don't worry, I knocked him around a few times before coming here. His pals didn't show up to bail him out, so I guess it's not a trap."

"Even if we had set a trap, the Dai Li would not have fallen for your amateur tactics." His voice was calm and a touch sibilant, like a tigersnake. "Shall I stand up to deliver my message, or does the princess require such stringent defense against one lowly earthbender?"

Zhao set his foot on the earthbender's chest, forcing him to lay flat.

"Ursa, never pay attention to an enemy's taunts. First thing that royal hothead taught me. And sometimes he's actually right."

Ursa wondered if she should find it strange that she didn't feel pity for this enemy, young as he was. Her heart was dead and grey, like that sky from that tower window.

"What is your name, dai li agent?" She was the Fire Princess. There was no Ursa, no "turtleduck girl."

He smiled, sly and charming.

"Long Feng, at your service, Highness. I would ask why your husband-to-be isn't here to greet me with a flame of diplomacy, but I hear that he's...indisposed."

Her face was stone-no one could move it, certainly not this earthbender. But like a magma lake deep below, a borrowed personality melted through-if not a volcano, then at least a glowing trench.

"You will tell me what the Dai Li want with His Royal Highness the second son of Fire Lord Azulon." Let him remember exactly who he was daring to cross.

His eyes widened just a bit-although subtle, he was mocking her.

"But of course, my lady." The false courtesy sharpened into a look she knew well, the smug, superior confidence of someone who knows he's at the top of his game. Or thinks he is.

Staying silent, Ursa let her own mouth curve upward-just a little-in echo of that beautiful, amber-eyed smirk that the wise should have fled.

_Think again._

"Yours is a fair question, Princess. We in the proud city of Ba Sing Se have long observed the military prowess of Fire Prince Ozai. We feel he would be a most useful ally in engineering a time of peace and prosperity, with minimal loss of life and resources, between the great Fire Nation and their humble Earth Kingdom subjects."

"You've lost me there," cut in Zhao with a snort. "What makes you think Ozai would be any good at making peace, specially with you mudslingers?"

Long Feng was unfazed, still smiling like a good luck statue.

"Simple. When we fight your second prince, he wins. And does so without relying on brute force." His eyes flickered to Zhao. "He wins by cunning. We of the Dai Li, who prize cunning and sophistication of thought, would consider it an honor to work with—that is, under him."

"You make a good point about cunning," Zhao laughed dismissively. "I wouldn't trust you as far as-actually I could throw you pretty far, but you take my meaning."

Long Feng fixed the firebender with a cryptic gaze, and asked thoughtfully, "Do you suppose it's likely that your prince, unmatched strategist that he is, won't know it if we're up to something?"

"What he's saying...it could work." The swordsman spoke now, looking surprised at his own words. "A peaceful surrender, that's what they're offering."

"I suppose we could still count on his knack for spotting treachery...after you brainwash him?" Ursa heard her voice like a stranger, like the jaded rescuer character in a play, just as reasonable and poisonous as the Dai Li agent's tone.

Long Feng gave a polite chuckle.

"I'm surprised you think it so very easy to subdue and rewrite a mind like his."

Zhao expelled a forceful breath and stepped harder on Long Feng's chest, causing him to cough.

"None of this has any relevance if we don't cure Ozai. IF you remember, he's dying. Any thoughts, Answer Man?"

"It's a simple matter to restore him to health," said Long Feng, sounding as calm and pleasant as if they were discussing...whatever people discussed in the Earth Kingdom. "If you'll show me to the Crown Prince, I'm sure we could come to an agreement."

* * *

It was much, much later that day.

"You may not be a firebender, but you're Fire Nation, and Roku's blood is in your veins," said Prince Iroh, gentle but urgent. "I want you to close your eyes, and breathe as if your lungs control the flame."

They were sitting on the floor of his tent, dozens of candles surrounding them. She tried meditating as he said, but her emotions were too choppy, bits and pieces of them thawing painfully out of numbness.

"Iroh?" her voice sounded like a drop of water in the stillness. "If the Dai Li could cure your brother, would you let them?"

"Of course." She heard a rush of feeling behind the words. A touch of the desperation, fear and love that they each felt. "But even if they do have the herb that neutralizes the dragonsbane poison, it wouldn't work unless someone on good terms with the moon spirit gave it to him. It isn't a normal herb, unfortunately."

"What does the moon spirit have to do with...dragons?"

"Not dragons," the prince said quietly. "Dragons_bane._ You remember the old story that before the present cycles of day and night were established, the sun and the moon fought a great battle?"

"And to defend the night, the moon weakened the sun's warriors by...oh. The first firebenders were the dragons."

"Yes, and because of that incident, whatever effect dragonsbane may have on those who channel lesser amounts of the sun's energy, it almost always proves-" He took a breath, and she knew the word he'd kept from saying was _fatal. "..._It almost always brings great harm to firebenders."

"If I'm to ask for the moon's blessing, why are you sending me to the spirit world? I thought the moon and the ocean left from that place a long time ago. And I'm Fire Nation, so they won't even-" Ursa bit her lip, wishing she could understand Prince Iroh's plan and wishing even more that she didn't suspect it would be futile.

"They did, and you are, but your grandfather was a bridge between all four human nations and the spirit world." He sounded just as afraid, his voice shaky and a little hoarse, but he looked at her with sincerity.

"I believe in you, Ursa. You'll find a way to meet the moon spirit, I promise-the two worlds often intersect. And time in the spirit world runs slower, so take as long as you need."

With a deep breath, she closed her eyes, pretending the candle flames would rise and fall with her chest. Maybe they really did—you couldn't really say what would happen at the door of the edge of the spirit world. This time she sank away from the choppy surf into deep abyssal dreams.

But before the outer world disappeared, his voice tugged at her with one last warning.

"Ursa, in the spirit world you must remember what it is you came for. It's easy to forget. Don't let yourself be distracted. Save my brother, and bring our Ozai back to life."

* * *

Incense and candles merged into an amber haze, which faded into a dream.

Here, wherever that was, sunlight fell with such a rich hue of gold. The air felt different too, when she breathed, sweet and immediate, yet old as the mists of a legend.

Where was she? Oh—a garden, it seemed. A woman in a gold-embroidered gown sat by a small pond, beneath a tree that arched over to shade her.

To shade _them._ A boy of maybe thirteen stood by the water, scattering bread crumbs to the turtleducks. Some word or jest passed between the two, and his laugh rang out like a gale of morning sun. He glanced in Ursa's direction and started in surprise, his eyes lighting up.

"Hey, come over and join us! Look Mom, it's her."

The Lady met her with a girlish smile, almost seeming shy. Her hair was caught up with an ivory comb, but a few strands trailed down in faint curls.

"I'm glad you've come."

That spark of light in her eyes... Ursa blinked. She could see mother and son were much alike.

"Were you expecting me?" If they had any wise words or even the smallest of clues, it might help her figure out where to go next. The reality dissonance was making it hard to focus on her other world, the real world. She had come with a quest, and ticking hourglass, and eyes defiant to sorrow, but that was all she could keep clear in her mind for now.

"Not for a while yet," answered the Lady. "But I do know lots about you, and I think you know me."

Before Ursa could say "I _think _I do," an eerie feeling jolted over her, like a shadow flickering in the corner of her eye.

"Stupid turtleduck," someone muttered.

_Two_ sons! The thought snapped into place with an earthquake of deja vu. How had she overlooked that third presence before? The second voice belonged to a much younger boy, staring down the waterfowl with the seriousness of a child. He turned, and met her eyes.

_Gold. _It was bright as the edge of a blade, and a tremor ran through her. Suddenly it became less clear whether he'd been talking only to the ducks.

"That's Ilah you're talking to, by the way."

Half on instinct, Ursa spun around to face Lady Ilah again (_I know that name, I can't think how but I know that I know who she is), _dizzy with the sense of urgency and with her breath coming quick.

"Lady Ilah—I need your help finding out what I'm supposed to do next. Right now I can't remember clearly why I'm here, but I know that time's running out." Her eyes flicked to the elder boy, who was watching her serenely. "But why...why are you here? It's not your time yet... Or is this a memory, maybe?"

"It's the portraits you're missing, isn't it?" said the Crown Prince—_Prince Iroh, that's right_—with understanding in his young gaze. "The hall of paintings outside Mother's room, with our changing faces."

"Their older selves aren't here," said Ilah. "Not with me, at least, not yet. Here they look like children because...they were very young when I had to leave them."

The older prince made a suppressed noise in his throat, face angled away from them. Ilah smiled as if the back of his head were the sweetest thing in the world.

"But you're still with me. A mother carries her children always in her heart."

They heard him inhale deeply. Then he turned back to them, answering her smile.

Ursa though had to close her eyes a moment, again unsteadied by that eerie disconnect between this garden and the half-remembered waking world.

"Are you two real, then? How can you be here if you're not...if you haven't..."

The younger prince was playing tug of war over a twig with one of the turtleducks. Upon winning, he stirred the water into a small eddie with the stick, and then threw it back into the pond for the turtleduck to chase.

He found her again with those fire-eyes, this time looking amused.

"I'm plenty real, and I'm even part of the older me, though he probably doesn't remember most of what happens here. It's kind of a subconscious, metaphysical thing." He shrugged.

He was far too savvy for an eight-year-old.

"You've got a time limit, right?" Ozai asked as he stood, brushing himself off. "I can take you where you'll find him."

Oh, good—

Wait, why were her insides suddenly fluttering at a time like this? It was really very unsettling to have a child give her butterflies, even though she might make an exception for the boy who grew up into Prince Ozai. She snuck a glance at him, and promptly wavered in her efforts to appear calm and not at all as though she were swooning over someone half her age. He was studying her with that same half-smile, one she was sure he'd never used in actual childhood.

"Come on then, Miss Turtleduck. We've got a phoenix to find."

Ursa looked at the Crown Prince and his mother one more time.

"I'll see you soon, Prince Iroh. I'm glad I met you, Lady Ilah."

They waved farewell, but the princess barely had time to turn her head back before Ozai was tugging her forward with surprising strength for his current size.

"Good luck, little sis," Prince Iroh called after her softly.

As they walked away from the garden, trails of mist blew towards them, before long shrouding the garden from sight. Thorn-trees fanned out spindly branches, their occasional blossom a deep startling red.

Ursa lifted her nose to breath in the stormy atmosphere. Not mist—it was smoke, which melted and became the murky sky in a dim red dusk. Before them but still a ways off, a wall of fire danced, sinuous and wild but moving not an inch from its post,, as though contained by a wall of glass.

This land...it was eerily beautiful.

"This is as far as I can take you. You'll have to cross the fire."

It didn't surprise her.

"Shall I walk through them?" Wasn't that how things worked, in this realm?

"Not through them. _Into_ them." His eyes lightened with a faint smile. "You shouldn't be surprised. This is older _me_, after all."

Ursa gave half a giggle, half a groan.

"You _would_ be living at an inferno's heart."

The prince didn't reply. Instead his eyes traveled over her body and his smile became more teasing.

"Nice swimsuit."

"What?—how did...? I'm sure I was wearing normal clothes a minute ago." Then again, she hadn't really been paying attention.

"You were. But older me seems to think this is the best attire for the occasion." He held up a finger to silence her. "And before you ask why that is, I'll say, how should I know? I'm eight. Maybe it's because he's the me that has you _all_ to himself." He drew out the "all," and sent a shiver through her middle.

Luckily the weirdness of crushing on an eight-year-old (metaphysically or not) did not last long, as the young prince sauntered into the mist with a casual wave that was _very_ Ozai.

At the inferno's doorstep, the smoke snaked through her lungs, and it had a burning sweetness like incense.

Up close, the flames looked even less like earthly fire. Somehow, they was made of lilies, like the spirit of his element merged with her soul. Blazing, blossoming, cascading over each other, these were true _fire_ lilies. And they scattered glowing petals over her, like a storm of crimson stars.

She stepped forward. Instead of parting, the lily-flames twined around her like a lover's arms, brushing past her ear with a whisper, and soaking warmth into every nerve. Then with another step, she was wondering wide-eyed at a castle made of living flame and burning flowers. A shadow shaped like a phoenix lay over the ember-floor. It led up towards a rather more human silhouette, who looked tall even beneath pillars that soared overhead. Firelight gleamed on a red armband, and on his bare torso.

Those eyes had the power of a nova, setting her like a jewel in molten gold.

_Lunar moth, midnight sun; sparks scattering before him like autumn leaves; two lovers crossing the galaxy river to meet on a bridge of cosmic fire. _

_All wishes come true tonight._

His skin burned against her cheek, but not like the fever-fire. This fire-spirit, too hot to catch-the universe was his path of blazing flight, not quiet Earth. But she needed him on Earth, even if his molten wings caught the world on fire.

She could feel those wings now, brushing over her like a sun's caress

"Ursa."

_Like the name of a star._

"You're tired. Come rest with me."

He took her hand and led her through the fire castle.

"Ozai, what is this place? It's so beautiful, and...strange."

He raised an eyebrow.

"This is my lair, and it's invitation only. Come, we can sit here."

A bed of lily petals had fallen down from the ceiling, their flames mostly dimmed into coals that smelled like cinnamon.

Very soon after laying eyes on it, she was watching the fire-petals scatter down from the lattice-work above, nestled in the crook of her prince's arm. "Take all the time you need," Prince Iroh had told her, and now she understood why she might want to tarry.

"I didn't know if you'd come," said her lover quietly. "But I thought so."

"I came to save you."

Odd. She waited for the twisting of fear, but all that came to her was the sweet-spiced perfume of the flowers.

He was silent a moment.

"You could stay here, with me. Just the two of us. We could explore the spirit world..."

"It sounds marvelous." Her voice came out trembling, and she shut her eyes tightly, before turning on her side to look at him.

"Ozai...why did you stop, in our cave? Especially since you knew..."

He looked at at her, intense and tender and very, very cryptic.

"Consider it an act of kindness. I chose not to leave you with one night that could never be matched."

She didn't know whether to giggle or slap him or cry.

"We could change that decision," he ventured. "Say my name this time, and I won't stop."

Everything felt too complicated at present. Ursa bit her lip, unable to think of the words to explain herself.

The prince sighed, looking back at the ceiling.

"I have an awful feeling only the spirits could cure me now, that is if they were so inclined."

With a jolt of adrenaline, Ursa raised herself on an elbow.

"The moon spirit! Your brother sent me here to find her, so I can get her blessing and cure you."

"Well well, my sweet catbird. Any other plans you're not telling me?"

She ignored him, venting her frustration instead.

"Only the problem is I don't know where to find the moon, she might not like me too well even if I am the Avatar's granddaughter, and how am I supposed to tell her, 'I'm trying to get your blessing so I can heal a Fire Prince?'"

"Well..." He looked thoughtful. "Do you remember, in Love Among the Dragons, when the young queen begs the dragons to rekindle life in her husband? I seem to recall them granting her wish. And you know, from what I can gather, the plea of a wife often has a particular way of rousing the spirits' pity." That last sentence sent an odd under-lash look towards her, which made the princess shiver although she hadn't completely caught on.

"We are practically married, with the Fire Lord declaring our engagement," Ursa reasoned. "Do you think that will count?" She had the inexplicable urge to squirm, caught like an unruly child by that _look._

"They aren't into politics, you know. The spirits are mystery and chance, the untame forces of this world."

His voice...it was light and husky on the surface but deep velvet underneath.

"Then maybe," she ventured in a low, half hesitant tone,"if the spirits want proof of our..."

"...Connection," he supplied, not missing a beat. "Our family bond, the way in which we get so very much...under each other's skin."

"We could give them what they want." Half sacred and half nervewracking, it was something she didn't dare speak above the barest breath.

Lily-fire scattered down like cherry blossoms.

He was watching her like a drowsing tiger, waiting.

Ursa leaned down to him, closer than she'd intended, so their noses touched and his lashes brushed her face.

"_Ozai._" Her sigh brushed over his lips.

He inhaled sharply as though to suck in her voice, and then the prince was savoring more than her breath. He felt volcanic now, as he turned over and laid her down on a bed of lily-ash, his skin as hot as magma.

He leaned back on an elbow and raised an eyebrow at her. Although subtle, the just-there smile betrayed how very much the pantherwolf was purring. Long fingers tarried at her collarbone, then brushed down to the top of her swimsuit and paused just below the edge of the fabric. He pulled her in close, half lifting her of the ground to reach her swimsuit fastenings. He tugged at the knot, and the ends came fluttering loose.

When his hands slid across her back, Ursa gasped at the immediacy of his caresses. Sinking back down, she felt the cloth snake over her curves as he pulled it away. Before she could think, the firebender had laid a chaste kiss over her heart, just where the softness started.

The prick of his teeth, the pressure of his thumb—she would have lain forever beneath his hands and the warm velvet of his mouth.

But Ozai kissed her, brief but sensual, and purred, "My turn."

He pulled her up with him so both were upright on their knees, and laid her palms against his hips, at the top of the agni kai trousers.

There was a challenge in his smile.

"Think you'll survive me, pirate wench?"

The years of manners and training, the blushing and lowered lashes that came so naturally-they burned into dust in the fire he had taught her. Agni she loved him, sweet, sweet, arrogant, calculating prince. There weren't words to tell him, so she ignored the heat that rose to her face (_it's not embarrassment, it's passion_, she told herself) and disrobing him, spoke with her hands. His arms encircled her shoulders, and he leaned forward to support himself against her. Ursa bit back a gasp at the feeling of her chest crushed into his.

A long moment later, he cradled the back of her neck, kissing her with a sweet fervency she hadn't tasted there before.

"Enough now, turtleduck." His voice was low and hoarse but gentle.

Next moment, she lay on the soft lily-bed again, tangled in his arms. Ozai drew away slowly, sitting up just enough to block her view of the ceiling.

With a smile he tilted his head, somewhere between playful and dangerous.

"Your turn."

In a breath he undid the knots and cast aside her lower swimsuit, so that warm smooth fingertips could slip down her belly and abdomen. And then, his touch between her hips was fire.

She lost track for a while after that, and she might have spoken his name more than once. Too soon he was back to massaging her abdomen, as if in regret for the pain he would give.

"_Ozai._" Her voice was low, and came from somewhere in the back of her throat.

Stretcing out languidly, the prince gave himself into her eager arms, at which Ursa purred in relief. She had to hold him closer, deeper, or she'd go mad.

He kissed her nose, and held her with that fire-gaze.

"Shall I be gentle?"

She hesitated for the space of a breath.

"Yes," she said in a small voice. "But also...passionate."

He touched his forehead to hers.

"Be mine."

It didn't hurt, not after the first few moments. What she noticed was how strange it felt, to be so fully possessed by a soul like his.

Leaning down, Ozai nipped her ear, but his voice was warm and comforting.

"Put your arms around my neck, hide your face in my shoulder, and lie open to me."

He moved slowly at first, using moments of rest to caress her cheek or bite the corner of her jaw. As he'd bade, Ursa clung to him, both crushed and supported by his long lean body.

Nuzzling her cheek, her lover whispered something about a promise in their cave and three words he could only voice in the heart of this inferno. But all she could give back were incoherent sighs, as the burning pleasure snaked up every nerve. This Fire Prince made it unbearably sweet to be dominated by him.

He locked eyes with Ursa and spoke again, husky and resolute.

"I am _not_ going to let you lose me."

That made her cry out, trapped in agonizing bliss in his arms. A long heartbeat later, Ozai hooked one leg behind her knee and turned onto his side, arms chaining her flat against his chest.

After a moment he relaxed, and Ursa lay exhausted on her back. He stretched out nearly on top of her, nose against her ear, and stroked her cheek with a finger. And he purred, as she sank out into the softness:

"Mine."

* * *

**A/N: It is now 1:45am, and this is for you, card castles. I hope it was worth the wait. ;D Thanks for inspiring me to do Big Scary Things like finishing and posting another chapter of this. Hooooopefully the next one won't take so long to complete. :3**

**Also, I've fixed a couple typos. Thanks for letting me know, girlfriend. ;D  
**


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